More than Surviving
by AliceLiddell12
Summary: Ashlyn, after seeing the worst of people at the start of the break out, fears survivors more than walkers. However, after events leave her with a group of survivors, she may start seeing people differently. Rated T, Strong Language - Daryl/OC
1. Chapter 1

(Just a quick note, Ashlyn calls Walkers "Infected" in the beginning. This is just because she hasn't met the group yet, and has her own vernacular. She'll switch to "Walkers" later.)

ASHLYN

"_Shit."_

As my stomach let out a loud growl, the two Infected turn to face the shelf I'm crouching behind. Luckily, they try reaching their distorted arms between the shelves before staggering around to the isle I'm in, buying me some time. I stuff the last bit of supplies into my bag and with my hand grasped on my crow bar, I make a break for the door, jumping over boxes and bodies. A tall, fat Infected lunges from between two isles and I swing at his head, blood exploding from his face as he collapses onto the shelf.

Making supply runs is never a simple task, and lately, I've had to go deeper and deeper into the city to find anything worth the risk. I've noticed the best way to deal with it though follows my "Get Your Shit and Get Out" philosophy. The more time you spend in one place fighting these fuckers, the more noise you'll make and the more Infected you'll attract.

I pull my keys out of my pocket and unlock the doors with my clicker as I run up to my black pick up. I can see the Infected starting to congregate, coming out from behind cars and buildings like curious animals. I waste no time with my seat belt as I start the car and take off down the road. When I get out of my understood danger zone, I slow my speed and make my way to the outskirts of Atlanta, eventually parking under an overpass. The sun begins to set, so I put up metal sheets on the inside of my truck's windows, using hooks I had screwed in. I don't need Infected breaking in through the glass while I'm sleeping, or, even worse, other survivors.

When this whole "zombie apocalypse" started, people talked about the danger on the news, but it quickly got out of hand and suddenly, when the fear and panic spread, it was the people—the Uninfected—that became the biggest threat. Supplies were hoarded, stores were raided, and in the chaos, guns were fired. Laws were abandoned when people saw the government didn't have the time or resources to enforce them. People are selfish and under these harsh conditions, they can't be trusted. This is why I choose to keep to myself.

When I dump the contents of my backpack onto the passenger seat, my despair hits me hard. The only food I've got is half a bag of rice, four mini cans of corn, two Twix bars, a small bag of Cool Ranch Doritos, and a box of Raisonettes. _And I fucking hate Raisonettes_. This really isn't good. I've dealt with a lower stock of supplies before, but considering I just made a run and found almost nothing except empty shelves and Infected, things aren't looking too great. I won't last much longer picking through abandoned gas stations here. Not to mention the number of Infected are increasing at a much greater rate than I had originally anticipated. I have to move on, the city isn't safe anymore. Well, I can't really remember a time when it was _safe_, but it's more dangerous than I can handle.

My stomach makes more loud moans and for a second I think it's an Infected outside the truck. I pop open a can of corn, eat half, and lay curled up across the seats, still hungry. The dead silence only interrupted occasionally by the sound of the walking dead, shuffling around with nowhere to go.

DARYL

_I can't believe these fuckin' assholes just left Merle chained up on a mother fuckin' roof._ They never respected us and this just proves they didn't give two shits 'bout us. Now Merle's left running around Atlanta without a hand and I'm stuck with Chinaman, Officer Friendly, and the dumbass who dropped the fucking key. All they care about is gettin' their bag of guns while my brother's out tryin' to survive. They all think he's already dead, but they don't know Merle. He's tough as nails, probably half way out of the city by now, choppin' walker heads off as he goes.

This Glenn kid's got a plan figured out for tryin' to get back that bag of guns, which is right in the middle of the damn road. I'll be covering him from the alley while Rick and T-Dog wait for him two blocks down in case he needs to take a different route. I gotta admit, it's not a bad plan for a kid.

ASHLYN

The next morning I get up and figure its best to make one last run before heading out of the city. With my current supplies, I'll only last a few days if I don't end up finding anything edible out in the wild. I leave my truck behind this time and decide to walk to save up on gas. I strap my pistol to my thigh, grab my crow bar, throw on my backpack, and head into the city.

Taking a different route than usual, I cautiously make my way through the city, going through buildings and sticking to the alley ways as much as I can. I have to fight back several Infected but luckily no large groups. I'm just making a run for cover behind a car when I hear screaming coming from the alley way directly down the street from where I'm hiding. A silver car drives past me and I watch as two thugs run into the alleyway and come back out dragging an Asian looking kid. One of the guys is holding his ass where it looks like he got shot with an arrow.

My eyes widen at the familiar site and in a moment of anger and fear I run from behind cover to the silver car and point my pistol at the men. "Let the kid go you _fucking shits_ or I'll blow your heads off!" I yell, with all the confidence that comes with adrenaline. Suddenly I'm blind-sided by a third man knocking me to the ground. I pull the trigger and hear a man scream. I hit the concrete and struggle to stay conscious as my vision blurs. I try shoving the man on top of me but his weight is no match for my weak and malnourished body. I'm lifted up and tossed into the car with the Asian boy. I look out the doorway and behind my attacker I see an angry man in the alley behind a fence blocked by Infected. I hear him yelling but can't make out his words as I lose consciousness.

DARYL

"I'm gonna kick your nuts up into your throat!" I scream at the brat that fucked up our plan. "It's a plan! The little bastard and his little bastard homie friends! I'm gonna stomp your ass!" I lunge at the kid but Rick's holding me back and the Walkers are closing in on us. T-Dog grabs the kid and runs back down the alley.

"We're cut off!" Rick yells, "Get to the ladder, GO! C'mon Daryl!"

I follow behind Rick, up the ladder as the Walkers chase after us. We make it back into the building and start interrogating the fucking brat.

"Those men you were with, we need to know where they went," Rick asks calmly. I don't know what good he thinks that will do. You can't just ask nicely with fuckers like this. I'm pacing behind him, ready to beat the shit outta the brat.

"I ain't tellin' you nothin'." See? No way this kid's telling us that way.

"Jesus man, what the hell happened back there?" T-Dog asks.

"I told you, this little turd and his douche bag friends came outta nowhere and jumped me," I spit.

"You're the one who jumped me, _puto_. Screaming about your brother."

"They took Glenn! And that red headed chick. Maybe they took Merle too." I can't fucking calm down. Merle's out there! These fuckers, they probably jumped Merle just like they jumped us.

"Merle? What kinda hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle. And I don't know shit about any red head chicks. She your bitch?"

I lunge at the brat but Rick hold me off. _This shit talking little bastard! I'm gonna stomp his ass until he shits himself"_

"Now hold on, what red head girl?" Rick asks.

"I dunno, she just fucking showed up with a gun but his _stupid shit head friends_ snatched her." I say, but I'm already digging in my bag, pullin' out Merle's hand I grabbed off the roof. "Want to see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" I stride over to the kid and throw it down in his lap and he loses his shit. I'm not even gonna have to hit this pussy kid to find out what I need to know. I start grabbing him and gettin' up in his face but Rick pulls me off and asks again.

"Tell us what we need to know." The hand did the trick and the kid spills everything. He still doesn't know anything about the red head girl. Don't know what she was thinking, jumping out like that. She had a hell of a mouth on her though, I'll give her that.

ASHLYN

Everything's dark when I wake up. My arms are tied behind my back and my mouth is taped shut. Where the hell am I? And why is my head throbbing? I start moving around but freeze when I hear heavy breathing coming from a couple feet away. Suddenly, a door slams open and I hear footsteps crossing the room to the person next to me followed by a startled, muffled scream. Someone pulls the bag off my head, momentarily blinding me with light. When my eyes adjust, I see the Asian kid from before, sitting right across from me, tied up and scared. Probably a lot like how I look. The other man in the room is a Latino guy, one of the guys from the silver car.

Once I take in my situation, panic sets in. All of the possibilities of what might happen, what they might do to me, scare me. It's strange. I should be used to fear, living surrounded by dead people that want to eat me. But this is different. I have no control, I'm vulnerable. I know I have to get my shit together though.

The Asian kid looks at me curiously but then addresses the Latino man. "Where are we? What do you want from us?" The authority in his voice shocks me. Either he's more confident than he looks or he sounds more confident than he is.

"You're here cause your friends have got what we want now shut up," the man barked.

A second man walks in, "Now we're gonna ask you two a couple questions and you're gonna answer them if you want to keep this friendly." He is slightly smaller than the first man, also Latino. He has a shaved head, wears a white tee with an open button up shirt over it with a gold chain around his neck. Although he seems fairly young, he appears to have more power than the first man.

"Well, we don't know anything," the boy snaps back.

"I said _shut the fuck up,"_ the first man yells. He violently yanks the boy up on his feet by the shirt collar and pulls back his arm, about to throw a punch.

"Calm down, bro," the second man says, putting his hand on the other's arm. After a quick glance at the one who seems to be his boss, the man releases the kid, throwing him back on the ground.

"Sorry, G. Just let me know when you want me to smash his face in for you."

The man in charge, who I guess is "G", kneels down, so that he is eye level with the Asian. "Now I need you to tell me where you're little friends are hiding."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the Asian kid replies, avoiding eye contact.

G get up slowly, then glances back at me. I stare at him for a second before looking away. I have nothing to do with this. _Please, just let me go_. He crouches down by me this time. I feel his face close to mine but I won't look at him. He grabs my chin and gently moves my face toward him but I keep my eyes down. I hold my breath, my entire body tense.

"You're gonna help me out now, aren't you sweetheart?" He murmurs lightly in my ear. A shutter goes through my body as I shift away from him.

"Don't touch her! She doesn't even know us!"

G stands up and faces the boy but doesn't move away from me. I can tell the boy is nervous but he stares back at the man. What's he doing? Is he trying to help me?

"You don't know her?" He glances back at me, then suddenly pulls me to my feet, gripping my arm tightly. He pulls a gun from the back of his pants, pulls back the hammer with his thumb and press the barrel to my temple. The boy freezes, wide eyed. "Then you wouldn't care if I pulled this trigger now, would you?"

"Stop! _She has nothing to do with this!" _He's panicking, scared I'm going to die.

G digs the barrel harder into my temple. "TELL ME OR I PULL THE TRIGGER!" He screams at the poor, frightened kid. Suddenly, my fear goes away, replaced by anger.

Just as the boy opens his mouth, I jerk my head back and yell, "FUCK _OFF!_" I swing my leg as hard as I can, connecting with the man's shin.

Still gripping my arm, he yells a series of curses, then slams me against the wall. "The fuck do you think you're doing!? Now I'm going to give you 5 seconds to tell me where our guns are before I blow you fuckin' brains out!"

"I don't know anything about you stupid guns!"

"FIVE. Better start talking bitch."

"Stop! Just stop, ok? I'll tell you where you can find them." The Asian boy stares straight at G.

"Now that's more like it."

"They're… They're uh..," The boy clearly doesn't know what to say. But whether he really doesn't know where they are, or he's deciding whether to really tell him or not is unclear.

"No bullshit, or I'll shoot you next. Tell me where they fucking are!"

Another man walks in, "Hey, G? They, uh, they're here."

"What?" G, completely thrown back, lowers the gun. The whole room seems to be confused, and we all just stare at the man who brought the news.

"The guys from before, who took the guns. The Sheriff and the Hillbilly. They brought Migel, too."

G lets go of my arm and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding and sink to the floor. He puts his gun in the back of his pants and cover his mouth with his hand, in deep thought. "Alright, I'll be right out. Matías ," he points to the man that was in the room first, "put the bags back over their heads. Bring them up to the roof. Wait for my signal."

I share a glance with the Asian boy, who is apparently equally alarmed at what was just said, before the bags are once again pulled over our faces.

I wanted to get a bit further, but I wanted to get this chapter up because I'm on 'vacation' right now, and won't be able to write much.

This is my first story so I would love it if you rate and review. I would love advice, especially feedback on the Daryl parts. I'm worried it might seem OOC. Also worried the chapter was slow. It'll be more exciting when she's with the group I swear.

Next chapter should be up next week though! Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

The men roughly pull and shove me along, up stairs and through hallways. I hear muffled grunts coming ahead, most likely from the Asian boy. They duck taped our mouths before taking us out of the room. We're lead out a door and I can feel the wind on my arms. We must be out on the roof now. My head spins, thinking of why they would want us on the roof, not looking forward to what comes next.

I hear distant voices, arguing, but still calm. Obviously trying not to let the other side detect any weakness.

I make out a familiar voice, the voice of the man yelling from behind the fence when I was taken. "You got my brother in there?"

"Sorry, fresh out of white boys," G retorts. "But I got an Asian. You interested?"

The next voice that speaks is unrecognizable. The voice is steady but careful with a slight southern drawl. "I have one of your's. You have one of mine. Sounds like an even trade."

"I don't think you understand the situation. I got another one of yours too."

"What are you talking about?" The steady voice said, except this time, confused.

"I got your little girlfriend, too. And if you think I'm giving even one of them up without that bag of guns, you might as well just walk away now." G spoke the last part with a seriousness that scared me. If he didn't get those guns, I have no idea what will happen to me but it isn't looking good.

"We don't know anything about a girl, but-" he's interrupted by the man that was behind the fence.

"She tried helpin' Glenn. Got picked up by these assholes though."

"Regardless, she's not with us. Has nothing to do with this."

"Either way, you're not getting anyone back until I have my guns," G threatens, resuming the argument. Both sides claim it's theirs and neither side seems willing to hand them over. No matter the cost.

I catch the end of the conversation"—What's to stop my men from unloading on you right now?" Suddenly, I hear guns cocked and people shuffling.

"You could do that. Or not." The man with the steady voice says.

Unable to see, I start to lose track of what's happening. After a long pause, G shouts "Jose!" And suddenly I'm pushed forward while another man pulls on my arm. I hear the Asian boy grunt as well. Someone pulls the bag off my head and I go into panic mode. My feet are half over the ledge and I'm a good four stories up.

"I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns. Or you come back locked and loaded and we see which side spills more blood."

DARYL

We make it back to the building we were hiding out in before and Officer Friendly starts opening up the bag of guns. This situation isn't lookin' too good. Those fucker's have got China Man and Red. But they're not giving either of 'em up without those guns. Guns that we need.

"Guns are worth more than gold," I say, pacing back and forth. "Gold won't protect your family, put food on the table. You willing to give that up for that kid?"

"If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree," T-Dog adds. "You think that vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?"

"You callin' G a liar?" The Mexican brat says.

"You part of this!?" I slap the bastard upside the head. "You wanna hold onto your teeth!?"

"The question is, you willing to bet on it?" asks T-Dog.

"No, the question is _what_ are you willin' to bet on it? It could be more than those guns. It could be your life." Rick's not seeing how this works. He doesn't get how this shit goes down, what these kinda guys are like. "Glen worth that to you?"

"The life I have, I owe to him." Rick says, solemnly, holstering his gun. "I was nobody to Glen, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could've walked away. But he didn't. And neither will I."

"So you're just gonna hand the guns over?"

"I didn't say that. There's nothing keeping you two here. You should get out. Head back to camp."

"And tell your family what?" T-Dog asks, already knowing there won't be an answer.

I stare at Rick. He's riskin' his life for this kid. He's got a family to go back to. And not some broken family like I got. It's not just that, though. He's got honor too.

Fuck it.

I nod at Rick and we start loading our guns, getting ready for the shit show about to go down.

ASHLYN

The men bring us downstairs, across a lawn, and into another building, not bothering putting the bags back over our heads. I don't know what I was expecting to see, but it wasn't this. We're in a hospital, filled with old people and people taking care of them. Although the hospital isn't in the organized state it probably once was, it seems relatively untouched by the chaos outside.

G walks over to us and instead of being scared this time, I can only manage to be utterly baffled and curious. "What is this? What's going on?" G ignores my questions but tells one of the men to bring us to the main room and leaves us.

The room has even more elderly, all being given medical treatment by various people, none of which look like professionals. I share a confused glance with the Asian as the man who brought us walks away to help an old man with his IV drip.

"This whole time? They were just nice people, trying to take care of their grandparents?" He asks me, trying to absorb this new information.

"I…Uh, I guess so?" We stare at each other in confusion for a long moment before smiles slip onto our faces and we both break out into laughter. This is just too ridiculous.

When our laughter dies down, he looks at me, suddenly serious. "Hey, what were you doing back there? In the city, when you came out from behind that car. Thank you , by the way, for that. I don't know if you were trying to save me, but.. thanks."

For a moment I had to think about what he was talking about. And when I did remember, all I could say was, "I.. I'm not really sure."

"Well, I'm glad you did it. Misery enjoys company," he says lightly. "Oh, and my name's Glenn. Nice to meet you."

"I'm Ashlyn," I say, shaking his hand. "And I'm not really sure 'nice to meet you' works that well with this situation."

He smiles a bit at that. "Yeah, guess not."

I'm not sure what's happening to me. I've avoided every survivor that's come within a 30 yard radius of me and here I am, making light conversation with a guy right after being kidnapped. It must just be the strangeness of the whole situation. I just need to get out of here, find some food, and head off into the woods.

DARYL

We make it back to where we talked to the bastards before, but instead of standing outside, we're lead into the building. They probably didn't want to chance us havin' a sniper on them again. We're in a large room, looks like it used to be a warehouse. Also looks like we're out numbered. 1 to 3, maybe 1 to 4.

"I see my guns, but they're not all in the bag." G points out, as Rick aims a shotgun at his face.

"That's because they're not yours," Rick replies, coolly. "I thought I mentioned that."

"Let's just shoot these fools right now. Unload on their asses," Some fat bastard snarls.

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation," G says, ignoring the other guy.

"No I'm pretty clear. You have your man," Rick pushes the brat to G, "now I want mine."

"I'm gonna chop up your boy up, and your whore, feed em' to my dogs. They're the evilest, nastiest, man-eatin' bitches you ever saw." Rick just stares him down, so he continues, more urgent than before, "I told you how it has to be, are you willfully deaf?"

"My hearing's fine. You said come locked and loaded." Rick says, cocking his gun, T-Dog and I doin' the same. "Well then, we here."

The room is tense, as men on both sides move around nervously, waiting to see who makes the first move.

"Filipe!" A soft voice, the voice of a frail old lady, calls out. "Filipe!" A tiny old lady walks out from behind the men.

"Abuela! Get back with the others! Now!" The fat guy from before calls back.

"Get that old lady out of the line of fire!" I shout. Pointing my gun at the fat guy. We don't need any grandmas getting involved in this. The fuck is going on?

G tries to get the old lady to leave but she just talks over him. Something about a man needing his meds.

"Filipe, go take care of it! And take your grandmother with you!"

The fat guy says some stuff to the lady in spanish but she's not listening to him. She walks out in front of G and starts talking to Rick. "Filipe is a good boy, he has his troubles, but he helps us. We need him here."

Rick, realizing what this looks like since he's in his uniform, replies "Ma'am. I'm not here to arrest your grandson."

"Then, what do you want him for."

"He's… helping us find a missing person. A fella named Glenn. And, uh, a girl with red hair."

"The Asian boy? And the nice girl? They're both here!" The lady says, a big smile on her face. She begins leading us through the crowd of men.

Completely defeated, G reluctantly says "Let them pass."

ASHLYN

Some time has passed since we were lead into the main room. Glen and I have started talking to some of the older people, helping them with small things like getting them water. The old lady I talked to the most didn't realize what had happened, didn't know the world went to shit. It seems like she's going through the early stages of Alzheimer's but I wouldn't know for sure. Talking to her is strange, as if everything is alright. When she asks me about myself, I don't answer honestly; I answer the way I would've two months ago.

"Oh, you're such a pretty little thing. You must have the men clawing after you! Are you married, dear? Maybe a boyfriend?"

I'm used to the flattery old people always seem eager to give, but this time, I think she must be either especially generous with her compliments or partially blind. I can't remember the last time I took a shower and I definitely haven't brushed my hair in several days. Partially blind seems like the more probable explanation.

Still, I reply nicely, thinking back to before the outbreak. "Haha you're too nice. But no, not married. I have been seeing someone lately though."

"Oh, how nice. What's he like? Is he a good man?"

"He's very nice. A complete gentleman." It wasn't a lie, besides the two month time jump. The man I had been seeing, James, was a great guy. A lot like the few other men I had dated in my life. Charming, a stable career, neatly pressed shirts, great smile. My relationships just never seemed to go very far.

She was about to reply when a we here a commotion on the other side of the room. "Excuse me," I say quickly as I get up and run to the source of the noise. An old man in a wheelchair is wheezing loudly, surrounded by people. I see Glen running over, with something in his hand. An inhaler. He holds it to the old man's mouth and presses the bottom, helping him breath. The old man takes the inhaler and Glen steps back as one of the younger guys, Matias, helps the old man.

"What the hell is this?" A man's voice asks from behind me.

I spin around and see a tall man in a sheriff uniform. I recognize his voice as one of Glen's friends that came to save him. He looks fairly well groomed for the apocalypse and probably just a bit older than myself. There's a slightly shorter, but larger black man next to him, roughly the same age. Then I see the man from behind the fence. He stands further back, behind the others. He's about the same height as the sheriff, but more muscular. He wears a dirty army green shirt with the sleeves ripped off, showing his biceps. I suddenly notice his narrow eyes on me and quickly look away, my hair falling in my face. My cheeks probably the same color as my hair. He no doubt just recognized me as the crazy chick that jumped out from behind a car, yelling and waving a gun around. And now I look awkward as fuck. Perfect.

"An asthma attack," Glenn replies, "He couldn't get his breath all of a sudden."

"We thought you were being eatin' by dogs, man!" The black guy says, both relieved and frustrated by the situation.

Glenn glances back to the corner of the room at the doggie bed with three little Chihuahuas, "I think I'll be ok." I let out a little giggle, but quickly cover my mouth when the three men turn to me, realizing my presence.

"Um.. hello" is all I can think to say. I was never the talkative type, especially when there so many people I don't know.

"Oh, guys, this is Ashlyn. Ashlyn, this is Rick, T-Dog, and that guy in the back is Daryl," he says pointing to the Sheriff, the black guy, and the scruffy guy, respectively. I give a little wave and the others nod back.

"Nice to meet you ma'am. Now, uh, how exactly is it that you ended up in this mess?" Rick asks politely. He seems so exhausted.

I was about to respond when the scruffy guy speaks up, "Nah, I already told you. She came out of nowhere and tried saving Glenn. Got snatched up from behind though."

"Is that true?" Rick asks.

"Well, uh, I'm not really sure what I was trying to do-" I manage to say. I don't remember being _this _terrible at talking to people. I suppose my people skills need some work after two months of isolation.

"Yeah, it's true. I think what she said was 'Let the kid go you fucking shits or I'll blow your heads off." The scruffy guy, Daryl, interrupts, clearly amused.

I blush even darker than before, and mumble, just under my breath, "Is that what I said?"

"That was very brave of you. You're a good person," Rick says, with so much conviction, I almost believe him.

A little shocked, I look right in his eyes and breath, "Thanks."

"Now then," he says, turning to G, who had shown up with them, "I've got some questions for you."

"I thought you would. C'mon," G says, leading us into a smaller room.

He explains everything to us. How when the apocalypse started, the staff bailed. How his friend Filipe, a nurse, and himself, a custodian, were the only ones that stayed to take care of the people there. Others came slowly to see the grandparents and some stayed to help. They constantly need more supplies and are always fighting off plunderers. In the end, Rick gives them a few guns from the bag.

I couldn't believe the story. I almost felt guilty. I had spent so much time assuming the worst of people, while there are such selfless people as them, just trying to help people. I push back the feeling though, remembering the pain I felt when I lost everything. If this experience teaches me anything, it's that it's impossible to tell good people from bad people.

At the end of his speech, G turns to me and says, "And you. I'm so sorry about the way I treated you. I hope you can understand I was only trying to protect these people." He sounded so genuine, I look at him for a second, then nod.

"It's ok, I understand." I say, louder than I spoke before. I've had some time to gather my wits, think through everything that's happened. I just need to get back to surviving. "..If I could just have my gun and crowbar back.."

"Of course. Why don't you take some supplies as well?"

I look out the room at the old people wandering around the halls, at the old lady I talked to, asking a nurse for some food. "Thanks but, just my gun will do."

G nods and tells one of the vatos to get it for me. I go to follow him out, not planning on sticking around, when Rick puts his hand on my shoulder. I stop and look at him. He obviously has something to say, but isn't quite sure of himself.

"Do you have somewhere to go? A group your with?"

"…I have a place to go," I respond, unsure. What's he getting at? He seems to have picked up that I don't have a group, though.

"If you're alone, why don't you come back with us. We've got a nice camp site, outside the city. Good people there." His voice is so sincere, so genuine, some part of me, deep down, wants to say, 'Yes! Please, I would love to!" I can't though. These people are strangers.

"No, no, no. I can't. I'm sorr-" I'm interrupted by the man returning with my things.

"Here it is, bullets and all." I slip out from under Rick's hand and take the gun and crowbar.

"Thanks, but I can't." I say to Rick, firmly. He looks disappointed, and so does Glen. T-Dog seems indifferent, which makes sense. Daryl just stares at me intently, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, so I look away.

G speaks up, "You guys can stay a little longer, but if you're ready to leave, I'll show you out."

We all nod and G takes us back the way we came, leading us out of the warehouse.

When the doors shut behind us, we stand around in the awkward silence for a moment before Rick speaks up, "Well, we've got our ride parked by the outside of town under the highway. If you're sure you don't want to head back with us, we'll be going. It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Yeah, you were a good person to be kidnapped with. Thanks for trying to save me," Glenn says, nicely.

"Stay safe," T-Dog adds. Daryl gives a silent nod and the four begin to walk away. Walk away in the direction of my truck. After Rick said where they were parked, I barely listened to their goodbyes. My mind racing, I try figuring out my next move. That's exactly where I'm parked. I shuffle around, unsure where to go or what to do. I don't want them knowing where I'm parked. All of my supplies are there. They just almost got themselves killed over a bag of guns. What if they want what I have? It isn't much but I can't trust them. What other choice do I have though? It's going to be dark soon. I need to get back to my truck if I want a safe place to sleep tonight.

Glenn must have looked back and noticed my strange behavior because he called out, "Uh, Ashlyn? Are you just staying there?" The others turn around and see that I'm still there. Playing nervously with my crowbar.

"Well, uh, actually.." Fuck, what do I do? I have to get back to my truck. And soon. "That's where I'm headed." Looks like I won't be alone for just a little bit longer.


	3. Chapter 3

How did this happen? More importantly, why am I letting this happen?

I am currently leading four strange, heavily armed men to my truck where I keep all my supplies. I suppose I could walk with them to their van, wave goodbye, then head to my truck. Yeah, that seems like the best way to do this. Hopefully this doesn't turn out to be too eventful. I've had enough of that for one day.

We've been walking for a while, with some conversation that I've mostly stayed out of. Glenn makes a joke that Rick only went back for the hat and Daryl doesn't seem too thrilled Rick gave away half their firepower. I just follow behind, keeping to myself. That is, until Rick asks, "So Ashlyn. How long have you been livin' in the city?"

"Probably a bit over three weeks now. "

"I haven't seen you before, on any of my supply runs," Glenn says, surprised.

"I don't stay in one place long. I like to keep moving," I reply. It's good if they know I won't be here long; I don't need them to come looking for me when their food runs low.

"Only three weeks?" T-Dog observes. "Where were you before that?"

"I used to live in South Florida, in the Fort Lauderdale area. When I saw things were getting serious, I packed up and headed to Georgia to get my sister. I only got to around Albany before things really got bad…"

Noticing my solemn tone, Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog fell silent. Daryl, however, asks me, "You ever get to see her?" His voice was softer than before, but somehow still nonchalant.

I look up to answer him, but I'm the only one still walking. I turn to see the others have stopped, staring ahead at an empty lot.

"Oh my god." Glenn looks mortified. They all do. Like they just watched someone just slap a baby.

"Where the hell's our van?" Daryl says, all in one breath.

"We left it right there, who would take it?"

"Merle." Rick says, as serious and level headed as ever.

The all stand there for a moment in silence. What is this? The fuck is going on? So much for uneventful. I put my hand on my gun. What are they trying? Am I supposed to believe their van just disappeared? This must be part of some plan. They do seem genuinely distressed though. I take a step away from them and they don't seem to notice. Who's this 'Merle' guy anyway?

"He's gonna be bringing some vengeance back to camp," Daryl tells Rick.

"We have to get back. Now." Rick looks more distressed than I've seen him, not that I've known him long. They seem to have forgotten me, so I take another step back.

"We'll never get back in time, man. Who knows how much of a head start he's got on us," T-Dog says, panicked.

As I take my third step away, Glenn spins around to face me, "Ashlyn! You've got a truck. Please, we have to get back to camp, _right now_."

Here it is. They want me to lead them back to my truck. Do they think they can trick me? I don't owe them shit, either. It's because of them that I'm in this mess to begin with. They're not getting near my supplies.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, taking another step. Rick moves toward me, but I lift my gun, hands shaking. He stops, with his hands up. "I can't."

I can clearly make out the hurt on all of their faces, except Daryl. He looks more angry than anything.

"Fine then! Run away!" He yells at me, muscles tense. He turns away and addresses the others. "There's no time for this!"

His words cut into me. I can feel my lip starting to quiver but I swallow hard and grip my gun tighter.

Rick stares me in the eyes. He probably has the most unnerving stare in the world. His voice is steady as always, but this time, I can hear the desperation in it. "I have a family. My wife and son. They're in danger." He takes a hesitant step toward me and I take one back. "_Please." _

"_I'm sorry." _I whisper again. Then I'm running. Running as fast as I can away from them. This is it. This is how you survive. It's all I have left. It's all I know how to do. I run between cars, barely acknowledging the Infected drawing closer to me. The sun's going to set soon, so I run faster. Breathing heavily and coughing as my lungs struggle to keep up with my feet. This is how it's always been.

_You can't keep running your whole life, Ash._

I push my memories back as I reach my truck. I unlock the door, jump inside, and lock it back up again. An Infected slams it's hands against the window and I jerk away, startled. I throw the truck into reverse, back up, put it in drive, and floor it. The Infected flies forward about ten yards when I hit it, taking another Infected out like a bowling pin. I throw the truck back in park.

When my panic wears down, I stare straight ahead, both hands clutching the wheel, trying to catch my breath. My bangs, always too long, are matted to my forehead with sweat. I feel nauseous. I can't get their faces out of my head. Glenn's betrayed face, T-Dog's solemn expression, Rick's desperation. I remember what he said to me earlier that day. _You're a good person_. I wonder if he still thought that. I bang my head against the wheel. Of course he doesn't.

But most of all, I remember Daryl's words. _Fine then! Run away! _

I look in my rear view mirror. A red mark begins to appear where I hit my head. This isn't worth it. This isn't what I wanted.

"_Fucking hell."_

I put the truck in drive again, and take off, full speed, in the direction I just came from.

DARYL

We've been running for fifteen minutes and we're still not even close to gettin' back to camp. _Dammit Merle!_ Why's he always got to do this shit?

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog look terrible. Like hurt little puppies. I don't get what they were so fuckin' surprised about. So Red ran away? Who gives a shit? Her truck would've been nice to have, but we don't need her. People leave you. That's the way it is, the way it's always been.

The sun's about to set. When we eventually get off the road and into the woods, it'll be almost too dark to see. Not to mention, we're not exactly moving quietly at this pace. If I was alone, that'd be another story. None of these guys know how to move without makin' so much noise, every walker in the city can hear 'em.

"Did you see her face? When she ran away. She looked terrified," Glenn manages to say in between breaths.

"What are you so surprised about?" I spit, "She didn't trust us from the beginning. She didn't even want to walk back with us, thinking we'd jump her and take her stuff the second we got back to her precious truck."

"Enough," Rick commands. "There were four of us and one of her. She had every reason to suspicious."

"Whatever," I mumble. Just then, I hear a rumbling sound approaching us. A car, coming up fast. "Behind us. Someone's comin'."

We run and crouch behind a broken down Chevy as a black truck comes into view. Glenn peaks over the car hopefully, expecting to see his little girlfriend. Just as I hiss "Don't get your hopes up," I see a bright spot of red in the driver seat. Glenn looks over at me smugly before walking out from behind the car.

The truck comes to a quick stop next to us, and I hear her voice yell, "Get your asses in here before I change my mind!" I step out from behind the car, jog over, and vault into the bed of the truck with Glenn and T-Dog, while Rick runs to the passenger door.

"I knew you'd come back for us!" Glenn yells back as she hits the gas.

"Don't get too used to it, now," Ashlyn replies. I stare at her through the back window. For all her big talk, she looks like she just witnessed a murder. Her shoulders heave up and down, as she tries to catch her breath. Her body gleams with sweat and her hair is tossed in a big, tangled mess. It's her hands that really give her away though. Even from back here, I can see them shaking as she grips the steering wheel. She's even hitting her thumb nervously against the wheel. I wonder what made her decide to come back.

"Take a right up here, just passed this blue car," Rick says, staring ahead intently. No doubt he's thinking about his wife and kid.

Ashlyn makes a sharp left off the road and onto a dirt path. I see her sneak a glance at Rick, noticing the worry all over his face, and speeds up.

We're much closer to the camp, less than five minutes at this speed, when Ashlyn starts coaxing her truck to keep going, "C'mon now, c'mon. Don't stop now baby, you can make it." The truck starts slowing down, but the momentum's still caring us forward. "C'mon, baby."

"What's the problem?" Rick asks.

"The problem is she's been running on empty for the last twenty minutes," Ashlyn replies, glancing at her gas gauge. "Fuck" The truck has slowed to a crawl, so we jump out.

"We have to keep moving," Rick says.

Just as we get out of her truck, we hear gun shots and screams coming from the direction of camp. We sprint down the path, more urgent than ever. I hear an extra set of footsteps I wasn't expecting, following behind us.

ASHLYN

I chase after the guys, forgetting about my truck, not caring what happens to me next. I'm done thinking, and I'm done running away. My palms are sweaty against my gun, but I hold it tight, my muscles tense. We run into a clearing, guns blazing, and it looks like all hell has broken loose, literally. The whole scene is lit from the camp fire raging by the tents. Men and woman are screaming while groups of Infected run wild after them. There's blood everywhere but I'm unsure whether it's from the Infected or the living.

Two Infected charge at me from ahead and I swiftly take them out with my pistol. I turn to my left, but two rotting hands grab at my hair and pull me down. A heavy body falls on top of me, pinning my arm with the gun to my midsection. I use my free hand to keep the snarling face, or what's left of it at least, away from mine, but it keeps pressing closer. I manage to twist my pinned downed wrist so that the barrel of my pistol is angled toward the Infected's head. I blow a hole through half the length of its body, the bullet traveling through its chest cavity and into its brain. The recoil and discharge from the shot tear at my stomach, but I keep moving and shove the body off of me. I look up to see daryl standing over me, one arm reaching out to pull me up while the other wields a crossbow. He doesn't take his eyes off his targets as I grab his arm and he hoists me up, taking out two more Infected. Now standing and facing behind Daryl, I see an Infected run from the woods. I shoot it right through the mouth and continue covering his back until the Infected are wiped out.

When the blood bath is over, I lower my gun and turn to face the group of frightened people. I hear Rick call out to his wife and kid, "Lori! Carl!" He runs over to them, hugging them tight. Others seem less fortunate.

Daryl turns toward me and suddenly grabs me by the wrist, and lifts my arm, his other hand holding up my elbow. "Wha- Daryl! What are you doing!?" I stammer. He ignores my cry and continues checking my body, first my arms, then he puts his hands on my shoulders and spins me around. He examines my back, his hands still on me, then spins me back to face him. He notices the gash on my stomach and lifts my shirt just enough to reveal it. "I wasn't bit! It's from my gun!" Thank god it's dark, I can feel my face burning up and I hate it. This isn't the time to be self-conscious. I forcefully grab the hem of my shirt and force it down, glaring at Daryl.

Daryl looks up after my outburst, his face surprised and innocent, but quickly notices my discomfort, and takes a step back. Squaring his broad shoulders and shifting awkwardly on his feet, he says, louder than usual, "Well, c'mon, don't just stand there lookin' stupid, get yourself patched up." Not making eye contact, he briskly walks away.

Ugh, _who's the one who looks stupid? _I was just attacked by cannibalistic, half-dead people and then had my personal space violated by almost a complete stranger! I stare after him in shock, wondering what strange group of people I just got stuck with. Temporarily of course. He was right about one thing though. I need to stop this bleeding fast. And clean up the cut. The last thing I need right now is an infection.

I head towards the crowd of distressed faces, mentally checking off that the four I'm acquainted with are accounted for. When I notice a fifth familiar face though, my heart almost gives way. I want to call out, but my voice catches in my dry throat. Instead, I force myself to stagger forward, tears welling up in my eyes. He notices me and freezes, just for a moment, then whispers just under his breath, "_Ashlyn?"_

The adrenaline begins to wear off though and I really begin to feel the pain in my stomach. Exhaustion, thirst, and hunger hit me all at once. My vision begins to blur and my head begins to spin. "_Jim._" I vaguely notice I'm falling, but I feel a strong pair of arms wrap around me from my side. I keep starring at Jim though. He looks so different. His beard is full and he's just so skinny. Mel had always fed him well. "_Mel._" With a new burst of energy I frantically look around, struggling against the arms keeping me steady. "Mel! She's hear Jim, isn't she? She must be! Jim, where's Mel?" My voice cracks and rasps as I call out, "_Mel!_" I frantically look around, looking for the blond ringlets I love so much. However, I only see sad faces looking back at me. My eyelids begin to droop and my spinning mind spirals down to darkness.

DARYL

I catch Red just as she's about to hit the ground. Jim just stares at her, like he's seen a goddamn ghost, while she wails away about some girl named Mel. It doesn't last long though, she quickly passes out in my arms, her body going limp. Wailing continues, from over by the RV. The blond chick, I think her name was Andrea or somethin', is crying over her little sister's body. Looks like she was bit and nobody wants to be the one to put an end to it. Between the two scenes, these people don't know what to do with themselves, who to help. Rick steps away from his family, but then turns to his wife and tells her, "Go take care of the girl. I'll… see what I can do about this," he nods toward Andrea, sadly.

Lori nods and comes over to me and Red, saying "Pick her up and help me get her to my tent. We need to get her cleaned up." I nod and begin lifting her but notice Jim hasn't moved.

"The fuck are you starin' at? She's gonna need some water, go get some!" I shout at him. He snaps out of his daze, nods, and rushes off. Who is this guy to Red? And who the fuck is Mel?

I pick up Red easily, and head toward the tent. She looks like she was probably small before everything went to hell, but now it feels as if her bones are hallow. I look down at her face, more calm than I've ever seen it. Normally, she's all wide eyed and jumpy, like a scared deer. Now, her face is relaxed and her lips are just a little opened. She's got these really light little freckles, too, across her cheeks and nose.

"Daryl, lay her down here," Lori says, urgently, as she spreads out a towel for the girl. I set her down and take a step back. Jim bursts in, holding a water bottle, looking nervous.

"Uh, I, I've got some water," he stammers, his eyes fixed on Red.

"Thanks, Jim," Lori says, taking the bottle. "Grab me that towel over there." Jim hands her the towel she pointed at and she crouches down, pulling back Red's shirt. She pours a little water on the cut and starts wipin' up the blood. The cut isn't all that bad, but it the area around it is bruised and a little burned. Lori pulls a white plastic box out of a bag and opens it up, taking out gauze, medical tape, and butterfly stiches.

"She's gonna be alright, ain't she?" Jim asks Lori, wide-eyed and worried.

"Of course, it's just a little cut. She probably only passed out from exhaustion," Lori says. "Now what I want to know, is how you know this girl." She looks up from Red and giving Jim a serious but caring look.

Jim's shoulders slump forward and he lets out a heavy sigh. "She's my wife's sister, Ashlyn. They were real close. Always visiting each other and callin' each other on the phone." He sat down on a trunk and buried his face in his hands.

"I'm so sorry," Lori breathed. I just looked down and stared at Red's face. She was talking about her sister, back in the city.

Jim regained his composer and kept talkin', more urgently than before, "She warned us about all this. Real early, when it was just getting' going. Melanie, my wife, she said Ashlyn was always a worrier. She was trying to get us to stay somewhere in the country for a while, until it all blew over. We didn't want our boys to miss school though, so we stayed put. Still, Mel went out and got some supplies, mostly to make Ashlyn happy. I knew she was coming up to Atlanta, probably to get us to come with her somewhere safe. That was the last I'd heard from her." Jim starts sniffling at this point, and tears start falling. I look away quickly, it's not right, watchin' a man cry. "But after.. after Mel and our boys died, I wanted to stay in our place, wait to see if she would come, but I couldn't stay there. Not where they died. Not where I watched them get killed." He was practically sobbing. Lori gets up and sits next to him. Rubbing circles on his back, not saying anything. She looks up at me, and I know I shouldn't be in there. I nod at her and duck out of the tent with one last look at Red.

Tomorrow's gonna be hell, for everyone. The way Red was screamin' for her sister earlier, I'm guessing she doesn't know she's dead.

Ok, so I realized I made a mistake last chapter about what I should call Ashlyn's boyfriend from before the apocalypse. I just want it to be clear James isn't the same person as Jim. He might be mentioned later in the story and I don't want anyone to be confused.

Chapter 4 should be up before Monday. I'd love to hear feedback on my writing, so please review!

Also, thank you to VampWolf92 and Jag for the reviews and to everyone who followed or made my story a fav. It really encourages me to keep working on this!


	4. Chapter 4

DARYL

The next mornin' is spent clearin' the walkers and the dead out of camp. We throw the walkers in the bonfire and we put the dead to the side to bury. A waste of time if you ask me. Dead is dead, doesn't make no difference if you burn or bury 'em.

That Andrea girl is still starin' at her dead sister's body, not letting us get near it. I say we shoot her brains out from over here and just be done with it, but the others seem ok with having a bit girl in the middle of camp. Fucking cowards is what they are.

Morales and I start haulin' some dead guy into the fire, but Glenn starts getting' on us.

"Hey, whoa, whoa, what are you guys doing?" He asks but we ignore him. "This is for geeks! Our people go over there!

"What's the difference? They're all infected."

He won't let it be though. "Our people go in that row over there." His voice shakes but I can tell he's serious. Morales and I put the body down and look at him. This time, he yells, "We don't burn them!" He takes a second to calm down. "We bury them. Understand?" I stare at him for a moment. He doesn't back down. He's got some balls on him, this kid. "Our people go in that row over there."

Morales and I pick the body back up and drag him to the row Glenn pointed at earlier. Whatever, if these people want to waste their time, let them. "You reap what you sow," I yell back.

This time, it's Morales that shouts back at me, "You know what? Shut up, man!"

Fuck these people! They act like they care so much, but they're really all just stuck up pricks. Where was this compassion when they locked Merle up on that roof? We not good enough for 'em? "Y'all left my brother _for dead!" _I storm off, but not before pointing at the devastated camp, "You had this comin'!"

I walk over to my stuff and grab my crossbow, strapping it over my chest. They can all pretend as much as they want, that they're better than us. See if I fuckin' care.

I watch from a distance as Jim walks over to Glenn, starts talking to him 'bout somethin'. I'm about to turn away when I hear him say "Ashlyn". I see Glenn nod and start walkin' towards Rick's tent, where Red's sleeping. The fuckin' coward. Sending Glenn to get her instead of just goin' himself.

Jim stares after Glenn for a moment before getting back to work. I start walkin' towards the woods, planning on try to get some squirrels for later, but then I hear, "A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!"

I turn around and see Jacqui yelling, stepping away from Jim, and the rest of the camp converging on him. Fuck. I walk briskly back to the clearing. Everyone's formed a circle around Jim, who's standing defensively in the middle. He keeps repeating "I'm okay, I'm okay," but no one seems to care. I pick my pick axe back up and start yelling at him.

"Show it to us!" I run closer. "Show it to us."

Jim picks up a shovel, as if he's going to fight us all off. Everyone is yelling and trying to get him to stop. T-Dog rushes him from behind and holds his arms back. I run up to him, pulling his shirt up. A bright red ring is on his side, tooth marks and everything, still bleeding. I put his shirt down and move away. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he keeps saying.

We all stare at him, unsure what to do, waiting for someone to make the first move, or maybe just waiting for him to turn.

Rick speaks up first though, "Jim, you sit over there now. Everyone else, we need to talk." Jim staggers over to the RV and sits down, still weary of everyone around him. The rest of the group comes together a good distance from him.

They all seem to be thinkin' the same thing, but no one wants to be the one to say it. Pussies. "I say we put an axe in his head," I say, gripping me own pick axe. "And the dead girl's to be done with it."

Shane looks up at me and asks, "Is that what you would want if it were you?" Trying to get me all sentimental and crap, but it doesn't work.

"Yeah, and I'd thank you while you did it." But then I think about Red, and the way Jim talked about her last night. This is gonna kill her. First her sister, now her brother-in-law. I push those thoughts away. It don't matter anymore. He's infected. Besides, there's no room for that kind of thinkin' if you want to survive.

"I hate to say it—I never thought I would—but maybe Daryl's right." Damn right I am. Glad to see people finally figuring it out.

"Jim's not a monster, Dale, or some rabid dog." Rick says, always being the good guy.

"I'm not suggesting—"

"He's sick. He's a sick man," Rick interrupts Dale. "We start down that road, where do we draw the line?"

"The line's pretty clear, zero tolerance for walkers," I say, challenging Rick, "or them to be."

"What if we can get him help?" Rick counters. He just don't get it. There is no help. This ain't some fairytale where everything turns out alright. "I heard the CDC was workin' on a cure." Here we go. They all start bickering about some cure and where we should go next. Shane wants Fort Benning but that's over a hundred miles away. Fuckin' idiots, all of them. They all want people to help them, but they won't do shit for themselves. Well, I ain't afraid to do what needs to be done.

ASHLYN

(a/n: usually when I switch perspectives, the timeline just continues where it left off, but this time, Ashlyn's perspective starts a little before Daryl's started.)

"We can't just keep pickin' people up off the road! She'll just be another mouth to feed, another person to keep safe." I hear hushed voices coming from somewhere near me.

"If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have made it back here in time. Things would've turned out much worse if she didn't help us." That sounds like… Rick?

"If you had just listened to me in the first place, the camp wouldn't of been so vulnerable."

"We needed those guns and you know that."

"Mmmm." I groan as I try opening my eyes, only to close them tight to keep the light out.

The conversation stops and the room is filled with silence. After a pause, I hear footsteps coming toward me, then a zipper being opened. My instincts kick in, and I spring up, my hand going to my side, where my crowbar should be, but my hand finds nothing. I stare, wide-eyed, at the two men in front of me. I recognize the one on the left as Rick, but the other one is only vaguely familiar. My mind flashes back to last night, and the panicked faces lit by the fire. He was there last night. Suddenly my head throbs and colorful splotches block my vision.

"Whoa there," Rick says, putting his hand on my shoulder, "try not sitting up too fast. You've been laying down for quite some time." I nod slowly and close my eyes. What time is it?

After a moment, I open my eyes, and take a look at the man next to Rick. He's wearing cargo pants with combat boots and a gray t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. He looks well-built and around my age.

"Ashlyn, this is Shane Walsh. He was my partner back… before. He's a good man, takes care of a lot of stuff around camp."

I nod at him and mumble a "Nice to meet you" before turning to Rick. I recall the conversation I just heard. I want to talk to Rick about it; it seems there's been a misunderstanding.

Before I can ask to talk to him in private, Rick speaks up, "If you'll excuse me and Shane, we've got some things to discuss. You should keep resting." I nod again, thinking it'd probably be better if I got my thoughts together.

Rick and Shane leave the room, which I just notice is actually a tent. I let out a sigh and look around me. There's a small bowl with some plain white rice and a bottle of water next to me. Suddenly aware of how hungry I am, I grab the bowl and begin shoveling rice into my mouth with my fingers. I pause, realizing I haven't eaten anything since _two nights ago_ when I had some corn. My thoughts only last a moment though, and I continue stuffing my face. Beginning to choke on the dry rice, I look up from my bowl to grab the water bottle, only to seem a very amused looking Glenn lightly leaning against the opening of the tent, arms crossed in front of him.

"Never seen a lady eat like that before," he says with a smirk, "you're sure you're not a man?"

Some part of me is mortified, but my hunger and thirst overwhelm whatever part that is. I pick up the bottle and chug half of its contents, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, before I acknowledge him.

I put down the bowl and bottle, pull open the collar of my shirt and look down. "Yep, still a lady." It isn't until I do this, do I realize I'm wearing someone else's clothes. I also notice quite a bit of bandaging on my torso when I look down my shirt. I lift up the hem of the shirt, revealing my stomach. Some gauze held in place with medical tape covers my abdomen to the left of my bellybutton. A faint red line is visible on the gauze, where my cut must've begun to bleed through. I can see purple and yellow bruising peaking out from under the gauze. "Huh."

I look back up to Glenn, who's gazing at my patched up wound with a hard expression. "Do you remember what happened last night?" He asks, much more serious than he was a moment ago. He takes a nervous step forward.

"Last night? Yeah.. we showed up to the camp and it was under attack. An Infected fell on me. I shot it but..," I look down at my stomach, "when I shot it, the recoil…"

"After that. "

I try thinking about what happened last night. We were killing Infected left and right, everyone was scared, people had died. I went over to the group. But then something happened. I saw someone.

"Jim," I breath. My head starts to spin. "He's alive, he's at the camp." I start to get up. Mel! she could be here. I can feel the hope spreading through my body. I start scrambling out of bed, "Where is he? Where's Jim!?"

Glenn takes a deep breath and crouches down, so that he's eye level with me. "He wants to talk to you. He didn't want to come in himself and get you too worked up. When you're feeling better, he's right out there."

I nod slowly, looking back at his caring eyes. He's such a sweet guy, I can't help but feel guilty about how I treated him before. The other's too. They've been nothing but nice to me. I look down, avoiding eye contact, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."

I look up to see his confused face staring back at me. "For what?"

".. For not trusting you I suppose. I almost left all of you stranded in the city."

"But you came back," he smiles. "I should be thanking you." He stands up and goes back to the tent opening.

"Thank you," I say very seriously to him. He's been so kind to me. I'm about to start tearing up, when I remember my sister. I close my eyes, thinking about that day, the day I was sure I lost everything. My mind keeps thinking, _'Maybe, maybe, maybe,'_ but I try to push that back, not wanting to get my hopes up. But it's no use. I stand up and say to Glenn, "I'm ready."

I follow Glenn to the center of camp. I see a blond woman I recognize from yesterday, stoically hovering over the body of a young blond girl. A sudden pang of fear hits me. She looks like the older one's younger sister. I can't help imagine the scene as myself holding the body of my younger sister. I take a deep breath and continue following Glenn. The clearing comes into view and I see everyone standing around talking about something. I notice Jim sitting alone by the RV, and I'm about to call out to him, when I see Daryl break away from the group, run to Jim, and lift a pick axe in the air, ready to strike.

A scream escapes my lips and I run to Jim, throwing my body over his. When no pain comes, I look up to see Daryl, still as a statue, holding the axe over his head, staring at me wide eyed. I stare back at him, my chest hurting as I clutch at Jim's arm.

Then I notice Rick standing behind Daryl, holding a pistol to his head. Shane comes over and stands between Daryl and Jim and I. "We don't kill the living." Rick says slowly.

"That's funny, coming from a guy that just put a gun to my head," Daryl spits. Despite his attitude and toughness, I can't help thinking of a cornered animal as I watch Daryl.

"We may disagree on some things. Not on this. You put it down." Shane says calmly. "Go on."

Daryl aggressively sticks his pick axe in the dirt before glancing over at me. I stare back at him, pained and angry, clutching at Jim's arm. He looks away quickly before storming off. I turn to Jim and notice his condition. His body temperature seems high and he's sweating buckets. He turns his face away from mine, as if trying to hide something. I put my hand to his cheek and turn his head. "Jim," I whisper, beginning to put the pieces together. I look back up towards Rick and Shane, "He's okay isn't he? Why was Daryl trying to kill him? He- he's not,"

Jim puts his hand over mine and I turn back to him. "I didn't want you to find out like this." I start to panic but he says, "It's alright. I've been bit, but it's alright."

I close my eyes and burry my face in his chest. I just found him and now he's going to be gone. This isn't fair.

"I need to tell you. Tell you about Mel," he croaks. I look up at him, but then turn to Rick.

"I want to talk to him, in private."

"Now, I don't think that's the best—" Shane begins to say but Rick stops him.

"Okay. Just be careful." Rick and Shane walk away, glancing back at us anxiously.

I hug Jim closer and whisper to him, "It's ok… I know." His head jerks over to me, surprised. "If she was alive, she'd be right here. Making sure no one hurt you."

He looks down, a small, sad smile on his lips, "She would be, wouldn't she?" We sit like that for a while, thinking about Mel. Deep down, I had known all along that she was dead. I just didn't want to believe it. "She looked up to you. She may have gotten on you about working too much, but she thought you were amazing because of it. Just wanted you to be happy is all."

Tears start welling in my eyes, as I remember all the times Mel got on me about finding a husband. All the times she tried setting me up with different guys. Then I remembered her following me around when we were little, holding my hand. She was always the center of attention, with her dimples and bouncy blond curls. I was jealous of her, but she always gave me the attention I never got from others.

"I want you to have this," Jim says, pulling out a folded up paper from his shirt pocket, right over his heart. He hands it to me and when I open it up, I put my hand over my mouth in shock. It's a picture. Of the five of us. Jim, Mel, their two boys, and me. From the time they visited me down in Florida, and I took them out on the boat to go fishing. Mel looked so happy, holding her two-year old in one arm with her other arm around Jim. I was standing next to them, with their older son, Kenny, on my shoulders. It was the last time I had seen them.

We sit like that for a while. Occasionally mentioning something that Mel did or said. It hurts, but I'm glad I get to talk to someone about her. Someone that remembers her, just like I do. I didn't think I would have this opportunity.

After a while though, Rick and Shane come back, worried. They tell me it's better if we take Jim somewhere safe. At first, I don't trust them. I'm not ready to lose Jim too. But Jim tells me it's okay, that I need to rest more, so I let them take him, into the RV. I stay where I am and curl up with my back against the RV. I think about everything that's happened in the last twenty four hours. I was kidnapped by gangsters taking care of old people, released with the help of a group of survivors; I helped them get back to their camp, only to find a full out Infected invasion. I was reunited with my brother-in-law, who is now infected, and I have confirmation my sister is dead. I stare at the picture Jim gave me, exhausted.

And what was Daryl thinking? He was going to kill Jim, without even letting me see him. This infuriated me. Who did he think he was? He knew I was connected to him somehow. He was there last night when I called out to him. But he just didn't care.

I get up and head toward my van. I know I don't have any gas, but I need something familiar. I want to look at my books. Write in my logs. I keep detailed accounts of where I go, what the weather's like, and how many infected are around. I like to believe it's useful information, that I'll somehow understand what's happening if I study it, but I know it's just habit left over from my days as a research scientist.

I get in my truck and rummage through my things. I pull out some clean(ish) clothes and start changing. I slip off the borrowed pants and just as I pull the borrowed shirt over my head, I hear rustling, and spin my head so I'm looking out the driver seat window.

Daryl stares back at me, surprised, having just come out of the woods. His eyes slip down from mine and over my chest. Yanking the shirt back down, I start to get out of the truck and yell at him when I remember I don't have pants on. _Fucking hell._ I quickly pull a pair of pants on and burst out of my truck.

Daryl looks about as flustered as I feel, but all my anger toward him just comes out at once. "The fuck are you looking at!?"

He's surprised at first but then gets angry too. "It's not my fault you're fuckin' changin' where people can see you, goddamn!"

I know he's right but I'm still mad at him. I charge forward and shove him in the chest. He barely moves but I keep shoving him. He grabs my wrists and holds them down. "Who do you think you are!? You think you can just do whatever you want!?" I keep yelling as I struggle against him. He's too strong though.

"The fuck are you screamin' about, woman!?"

"You tried killing Jim! You were going to put an axe in his head! He wasn't even changed yet and you were going to kill him!" He freezes, loosening his grip on my wrists. He stares at me, his eyes running all over my face, his mouth open. I get away from him and start back toward my truck, unable to get his face out of my mind.

This chapter was really crazy trying to write but I think it came out the way I wanted it too. a lot of stuff about her past. let me know what you think, reviews are always welcomed!


	5. Chapter 5

When I make it back to my truck, I slam the door and look back out the window. Daryl is nowhere to be seen. I sigh and sit back in my seat. He looked so upset when I yelled at him. Did he feel guilty for what he did? I couldn't help but feel hurt that he would do something like that though. I had started to trust these people, him most of all, after he seemed so worried about me the night before. I flushed a bit when I remembered the way he checked me for bites, his large hands on me. I shake my head. These thoughts only make me feel more betrayed.

I start folding the clothes that were given to me last night and take my journals and maps out of my backpack. I carefully write everything I could remember from yesterday. I mark on the map the route I took to get here, where the hospital with the vatos was. I log how many Infected I remember seeing on which streets and estimate how many were at the camp last night. There were definitely a lot, which gets me thinking. Cities have the most Infected, it makes sense. Disease spreads fastest in communities with the highest population densities. They must be starting to migrate further out of the cities, just like I did. Obviously, it's not just supplies that are running low in the city, but food for the Infected as well. It was strange though, so many Infected all attacking at the same time. I'm used to seeing them in groups, but never ones this large, this far out of the city.

I pack my things back up and grab the clothes to return to whoever lent them to me. But first, I head back to the RV. Jim is only slipping further and further away. I want to spend as much time with him as I can, before he's gone.

I go inside the RV and walk all the way to the back, where Jim is resting. There's a small woman with short grey hair dabbing him with a wet towel. They both look up at me, so I introduce myself to her.

"My name is Ashlyn Turner," I hold my hand out to her, "thank you for taking care of him."

She gives my hand a gentle shake and says, "I know, he's told me about you." She smiles at me. "Carol Peletier." She stands up, putting the towel down. "I'll give you two some privacy."

I nod at her and take her place next to Jim. I spend the next couple hours talking to him. He occasionally coughs up blood, or puts his head back to rest, but he tells me about all the people at camp. He tells me about Rick's family. How nice Lori is and how their son, Carl, reminds him of his own son, Kenny. He tells me how Rick only got to camp a couple days ago, that his family had thought he was dead. Until then, Shane had been the leader of the group. He tells me about Carol and how her husband used to abuse her. He died last night though, attacked by walkers. That's what they called the Infected apparently, walkers. She also has a daughter, Sophia. The blond woman who was holding her dead sister is Andrea. There's also an older man, Dale, that likes reading and listening to people's problems. Everyone he talks about seems like good people. Except the Dixons, which is apparently Daryl's last name. Him and his brother, Merle, seem to be less excepted around camp and more tolerated for their hunting abilities. I had heard Merle's name before, when they realized their van was missing. Jim explains everything that had happened. During a run into town, Glenn found Rick and brought him to the rest of the group. When Merle started causing trouble, being racist toward T-Dog, Rick handcuffed him to the roof. When walkers came, they had to leave him up there. A search party went back for him, but all they found was his sawed off hand on the roof. The way he describes Merle, Daryl seems to be the better of the brothers. Although Jim isn't too fond of Daryl either, considering he tried killing him just this morning.

Our conversation is interrupted by Rick and Lori coming into the RV. Rick says he needs to speak to Jim, so I leave with Lori under the pretext we're getting him water.

I remember the clothes I borrowed and return them to Lori, thanking her for taking care of me.

"Oh, it's no problem. Rick says you helped them get back to camp," she looks me in the eyes very sincerely, "Thank you for that."

"It's nothing," I mumble, remembering how I almost left them stranded.

"Well, it means a lot to us. We're all very grateful for what you did." She pauses before continuing, "I also wanted to ask you about what you plan to do next."

She's so straight forward, I'm thrown off for a moment. I was planning to talk to Rick about this, but I suppose talking to Lori is just as good. "I'm going wherever Jim goes, until he's gone that is," I say, looking down. "And then I'll be on my way."

Lori stops walking and says very softly, "You know you're welcome to stay with us. We would love to have you."

I smile a little, "I'm not so sure about that." Remembering the conversation between Rick and Shane, I doubt it would make everyone happy to hear I'm staying. Besides, I've done much better on my own than I have in the last 24 hours with these people. I keep that to myself though.

"Well, think on it will you? I know it's what Rick wants and I know Glenn and T-Dog like you, too."

I just nod, unsure how to respond. From the beginning, this was always temporary. Even now, I'm only here because of Jim. We get the water and return to the RV. Lori stays outside to talk to Shane though, and I go in alone. I give Jim the water and move to sit by him, but Rick asks to talk to me outside. I glance at Jim who nods for me to leave, so I walk out with Rick.

It seems like Shane and Lori were having a serious conversation that stops when they see us. They say they were discussing Fort Benning, but it seems like they were hiding something. None of my business. I'll be gone by later today, maybe tomorrow morning, the way Jim is looking.

Rick and Shane excuse themselves to go sweep the perimeter, looking for any walkers nearby while Lori goes off to find her son, Carl. I'm about to head back into the RV when a middle age woman, a bit older than me comes up. From what Jim told me, I recognize her as Jacqui. Jim had spoken kindly of her, saying they talked a lot and had become good friends.

"Excuse me," she says, "you're Ashlyn, aren't you?" I nod. She has a very polite, soft way of speaking. "Jim's told me so much about you and your sister. I'm Jacqui."

"I know, Jim's told me about you, too. It's nice to meet you."

"You've spent so much time in this RV, taking care of Jim. If you wanted, I could take the next shift," she says, almost shyly.

I can tell she really just wants to talk to Jim, to have her time with him, just like I had mine. I step back from the door and give her a weak smile. "That would be nice, thank you very much. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you, too." She smiles back and heads into the RV. I'm glad Jim made such good friends. Mel would've wanted it that way.

Standing awkwardly outside the RV, I wonder where this leaves me. Everyone seems to be busy, preparing food, packing their things. They all seem to realize they won't be staying here any longer. As dangerous as this location may be, it's sad they'll have to move on. It's such a beautiful camp ground. I decide to do a little exploring, but first I get one of my many notebooks and some pencils from my truck.

As a kid, I always loved nature. I went through a phase where I would learn about and collect all sorts of plants and insects, keeping a log of what I found. Mel would bring me any little weeds she found and ask me what they were.

I head down to a gorgeous clearing with a large lake in the middle. Before I get to work checking out the wildlife, I strip down to my underwear and take a quick bath in the lake, rubbing all the remaining dirt and blood off my body and out of my hair. I wash my clothes and lay them out to dry. While I wait, I pick up my notebook and start sketching a deerberry bush.

I suddenly notice footsteps approaching and spin around, reaching for my crowbar. A startled looking Carol and a little girl, who I guess is her daughter, stare back. I exhale and put my weapon down.

"We didn't mean to sneak up on you, we just came down to see the lake one last time," the woman says. "Oh, and this is my daughter, Sophia. Sophia, this is Ashlyn, Jim's friend."

"Nice to meet you," the little girl says, quietly from behind her mom.

"Nice to meet you, too," I smile, noticing her trying to glance at my notebook. "Want to see?"

She nods and walks over. I hand her the notebook and she starts flipping through it. "These are really good!"

"Thanks."

Carol glances over Sophia'a shoulder at the drawings, all lined with scientific names and little facts about the plants. "That's pretty impressive," she says nicely.

"Just a hobby," I reply, but she looks at me a little skeptical.

"You must be really smart to know all of that. What did you do, before all this chaos?" I can tell she's only asking out of curiosity, but I rather not talk too much about it. None of it matters anymore and it just reminds me how much of my life I wasted on it.

"I was in research, mostly things about protecting the environment. Not things we really have to worry about anymore," I respond, lightheartedly, as I walk over to my clothes and start getting dressed.

Despite my tone, she seems to pick up that I don't like talking about it. "I'm sure your work was very interesting."

Before I could change the subject and ask her what she did, Lori calls out to us from the direction of camp, "We're about to talk about some things, why don't you two come on back?"

Carol, Sophia, and I make it back to camp and see everyone sitting around the fire pit. Glenn waves to me from across the pit, so I head over and sit by him. It looks like everyone's there, waiting to see what Shane has to say. Daryl is sitting directly across from me. I catch him glance over at me, but he looks away the second I see him, clearing his throat. What the fuck does he want? If he has something to say to me, he should've said it back by the truck.

"I've been thinking about Rick's plan," Shane starts, "Now look, there are no—uh, no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that. I've known this man a long time, I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning." The group remains silent, some people look surprised but most people just seem to be taking in what he says, and what it means for them. "Okay?" Some people nod but after a moment, the group breaks up. They go off, some in small groups to talk it over, others by themselves with no one to discuss it with.

Glenn looks over at me and asks, "What do you think? About going to the CDC?" He's looking at me carefully, like he's trying to figure something out.

I think about it for a moment. Will the CDC still be up and running like Rick believes it is? Most likely not. I knew some of the people there, people I met through work. Talked to them even, about what was happening. What Rick doesn't realize is that these institutions are made up of people, just like us. They had families and lives outside of their work. Even though I know this, I still wonder: is there anywhere better to go? Again, probably not. And if there is, I couldn't think of where that would be. "I think we don't have too many options left," I say seriously.

"Do you think they'll have a cure?" He doesn't sound hopeful. Just curious about what I think.

"No, there won't be a cure."

Glenn nods. He's a smart guy, he seems to be cut out for this world, as much as a person can anyway. After a long, thoughtful pause he asks me another question. "Will you come with us?" He looks me in the eyes, this time with some hope.

I want to say yes, but it isn't that easy. I was in a group before, very briefly, at the start of it all. Under these conditions, people get reckless. Tensions rise and people do stupid things. I don't want to be part of that again. But these people are different. Especially the way Jim talked about them. Part of me also wants to go to the CDC. See if anything's left. I'm sure I could find plenty of books and information regarding the outbreak. I answer as honestly as I can, "I don't know."

This seems to be good enough for him because he cracks a smile and says, "You should. We've got more of that rice you love so much." Remember the way he found me stuffing my face that morning, I blush and playfully hit him on the arm.

"Careful now, I might just end up eating all of your food if you bring me along," I joke, mentally putting Glenn higher up on my list of reasons to stay with these people.

DARYL

I get up to leave after Shane gives his big talk about Rick bein' a good guy and how we should all go to the CDC. Honestly, it doesn't make any difference to me where we're goin'. I look over and see Red, laughin' it up with Glenn. I remember the way she yelled at me this morning. Even tried shoving me, like that would do something. So I tried killin' her stupid brother-in-law. Who cares? He's good as dead anyways. He could turn any second and bite someone. They should've let me do it and thanked me afterwards for doin' their dirty work for 'em. The way she yelled at me though, it was like watchin' myself yell at everyone when they left Merle for dead. I felt so fuckin' terrible afterwards, I went back out and killed six more squirrels to get my mind off of it. Then she shows up and sits right across from me during the stupid group meeting. I can't catch a fuckin' break around here.

I head over to my tent and start packing my things, getting ready for tomorrow. We're definitely going to be comin' across some walkers if we leave the camp. I wonder how many of these people will actually follow Rick to the CDC. Will Red come? Probably not, she didn't want anything to do with us just a day ago. If it wasn't for Jim, she would've left first thing in the morning. Not that I fucking care or anything.

I try getting some rest for tomorrow, knowing it'll be crazy in the morning. I keep thinking about Red. First I think about the way she yelled at me, then about the way she looked when she ran away from us, terrified and shaking. I remember when I first saw her, back in the city, jump out from behind a car, screamin' like a maniac, wavin' a gun at the vatos. I see her face, the way she turned bright red when I was looking to see if she got bit. Then I remember seeing her in her truck, pulling off her shirt—

_The fuck am I thinking about? _I shake my head, feeling like Merle and hating myself for it. I keep trying to sleep but I can't seem to do it.

ASHLYN

I spend the night sleeping in Carol's tent, considering they had extra space. I felt bad being there, considering the circumstance of the vacancy, but I didn't have many choices and Carol insisted. Sophia is being less shy around me and I really love her company. On the way to camp, she asked me about some plants and I couldn't help but be reminded of Mel a little. I eat a quick breakfast with them, help them get the rest of their stuff together, and go to check on Jim. He seems well taken care of by Jacqui, but I stick around for a while anyway. His condition has worsened, he isn't always lucid and it looks like he's in a lot of pain.

After a while, we all meet out by the cars. I see Daryl, brooding in the back. I can't help but notice how exhausted he looks. Around his eyes are dark circles and he keeps trying not to yawn. Did he stay up all night getting ready? That didn't seem likely, but he must not of gotten much sleep. I don't even realize I'm staring at him until he catches me. I look away, embarrassed, but still feel his eyes on me.

"Alright, listen up," Shane says, all attention on him, "those of you with C.B.s, we're gonna be on channel 40. Let's keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, can't get a signal, anything at all, you're gonna hit your horn one time. That'll stop the caravan. Any questions?"

"We're uh, we're not going," Morales says.

"We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people," his wife says.

Shane, Rick, and the rest of the group seem surprised but they all say their goodbyes and we're on our way. Glenn drives my truck for me while I ride in the back of the RV with Jim and Jacqui. Every bump and every turn looks agonizing for Jim as he struggles to stay conscious.

We don't make it far when the RV starts to rumble. It slows to a stop and I share a look with Jacqui as we hear Dale get out. It doesn't take long before I hear other voices congregating outside the RV, talking about the broken hose. Just then, Jim grabs my wrist tightly and I see his face scrunched in extreme pain.

"Stop… stop.." he says through clenched teeth.

I put my hand over his and tell him, "You'll be alright, Jim, just a little longer."

"No… stop." I can tell from the way he looks at me that he's lucid. Biting my lip, I look at a panicked Jacqui and nod to her. She runs out to tell the others. I never expected him to make it, honestly. It's really amazing he's made it this far without turning.

I can hear Jacqui's frantic voice from in here, "Y'all—Jim, it's bad. I don't think he can take anymore."

After some quick discussion between Shane and Rick about getting the RV going again, I hear footsteps coming into the RV. I see Rick coming to the back, looking like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

He looks at me for a long time before addressing Jim. "We'll be back on the road soon."

"Oh no," Jim replies hastily, "Christ. My bones—my bones are like glass. Every little bump—God, this ride is killing me." He looks out the window, glances at me, then says to Rick, "Leave me here." Rick shifts around, deep in thought and obviously in denial. "I'm done. Just leave me…. I want to be with my family."

Rick sits down, so he's closer to Jim. "They're all dead. I don't think you know what you're saying." I can't handle this. Rick is a good man but he can't keep acting like everything is alright. "The fever—You've been delirious more often than not—"

"Rick. He's in pain. " I interrupt him, holding my breath. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes but I hold back. I don't break eye contact with him until he looks back at Jim.

"I'm clear now," Jim says, sitting up, "In five minutes, I might not be. Rick, I know what I'm asking. I want this. Leave me here. Now that's on me. Okay? My decision. Not your failure." Jim has always been good at understanding people. Even now, he can tell why Rick is in denial.

Rick gets up, "I'll talk to the others. Give you two a moment." He leaves the RV, still looking troubled. I can hear him discussing the conversation outside with the others.

"He's a good man," Jim says, staring at me. "They're good people." Again, Jim's good at reading people. He knows what's been on my mind. "I know you can survive on your own, it's what you're good at. But surviving isn't everything."

I look away, tears threatening to fall. "It is now. I already lost everything else."

He leans toward me, but groans and clutches his chest. After he regains his composure, he says, "Mel would want you to be happy. That's all she ever wanted."

A tear rolls down my check but I wipe it away when I hear footsteps in the RV. It's Rick and Shane, come to help Jim out of the RV. They help him over to a tree, just a little off the road. Everyone stands around him, unsure what to do. A lot of people look at me, trying to read my expression. Glenn walks over to me and gives my hand a squeeze. I squeeze back but then let go, and move closer to Jim.

Shane offers him another chance to keep going, in case he changed his mind, but Jim doesn't want it. "The breeze is nice," he says, looking more at peace than he has since I saw him.

"Okay, alright." Shane nods to him and moves away.

Jacqui approaches next, tears in her eyes. Kneeling down, she gives him a gentle smile, and whispers, "Just close your eyes, sweetie. Don't fight it." She holds his face with one hand and kisses his cheek.

Rick strides purposefully over to Jim, crouches down to his level, and asks "Jim, do you want this?" He holds out a revolver.

Jim draws back slightly and says, very sure of himself, "No. You'll need it. I'm okay."

Finally, Dale approaches. "Thanks for uh," he starts, trying to find the perfect words. "Thanks for fighting for us." Dale spoke for all of them it seems, because no one else moves or says anything. I can feel their eyes on me, waiting for me to say me goodbyes. I want to tell them to just leave me here. That I'll move on, when I'm ready. That they shouldn't wait up.

But I see Jim giving me a look that I wouldn't be welcome if I stayed. He wants me to go with them, to try making a life with these people.

I step toward him and sit on my knees next to him. "Thanks for making Mel happy," I say, squeezing his hand. He gives me a week smile and looks up at the sky.

"I'll be okay," he tells me. He starts coughing but he calms back down.

"I know." I start getting up, but before I move away, I whisper in his ear, "I hope you're right. About these people." He chokes out a small laugh, knowing I've made my decision.

I walk away, back to the road. I watch as everyone starts turning away from him, sharing a last moment with him. Daryl lingers just a bit longer than the rest. It seems like he wanted to express something to him, something Jim understood. I wonder what it was about for a minute, but then I find Rick.

"So, how much further to the CDC?" I ask. He looks at me, surprised but relieved.

"Not too far. Should be there before night." He pats me on the shoulder, a smile on his face, and heads back to his car. Glenn must've overheard, because he gives me a big hug before going into the RV.

I walk back to my truck. Just before I get in, I notice Daryl lingering by his truck door. When I make eye contact with him, he nods awkwardly at me before getting in his truck. I guess this is his form of condolences. Or maybe he's acknowledging me as a new member of the group? I'll never understand him. He still tried to kill my brother-in-law and that isn't something I'll easily forget. I push those thoughts away and hop in my truck.

As I try pulling out my keys, I notice for the first time how much I'm shaking. The weight of my decision finally hits me. Hits me hard. This is my new life, living with these people. With Jim's death, I'm losing the last piece of my life that really meant something to me. My last connection to my old family. But at the same time, I'm joining a whole new family, one that I barely know . I start the engine, my anxieties building the more I think about the future, and follow after the rest of the group to the CDC

So this last chapter was kinda long and not much (exciting) stuff happened, sorry about that. I mostly got through writing this chapter by thinking about how much fun it will be to write the next though. They'll be at a whole new place and a lot will happen. Stuff about her old work will be relevant and there will be a lot of Daryl—involving alcohol, which always makes things more interesting. Thanks for the reviews on ch.4 and stay tuned for ch.6!


	6. Chapter 6

(a/n: I mentioned before that I accidentally made Ashlyn's old boyfriend's name, James, too close to Jim so I'm changing it to Mike so there isn't any confusion. I didn't get as far as I planned in this chapter as I was said I would, but I hope you like it anyway.)

ASHLYN

I thought my uncertainty about my decision would fade as we headed to the CDC, but the opposite happened. We've been driving for a couple hours now and I have nothing to distract me from anxiety. My instincts keep shouting at me to turn around and haul ass in the opposite direction but something keeps me from listening. I remember Jim's words to me from back in the RV, _Surviving isn't everything… Mel would want you to be happy. That's all she ever wanted._ I know he was right. Before the outbreak happened, she was always checking up on me, making sure I wasn't working too hard. After everything that happened with Mike, it even got to the point where she was almost _mad_ at me. Mike always seemed like the perfect guy; everyone who ever saw us would say we looked great together. I tried to care about him in some special way, but I could never fool myself. During my two months of solitude, however, there were times when I wished I had just said yes. Now here I am, scared to commit to people, again. The situations are so similar, I can practically feel her looking down on me, right now, giving me the same look she did that day. The day I told her I was leaving to New York. _You can't keep running your whole life, Ash. _

I sigh, hitting the back of my head against the seat. Despite all my fretting, I know there's no turning back this time. I can't make the same mistake again.

The cars ahead of me slowed to a stop. I throw my truck into park, strap on my backpack, and step out. Immediately, I'm hit by the strong smell of rot. The loud buzzing of flies unnerves me and I stand still, taking in my surroundings. Dead bodies litter the street, the sidewalk, the grass—everywhere. I can see them inside broken down cars and draped over the barricades surrounding the CDC. I've seen some pretty bad carnage during my travels and this is definitely up there. It doesn't help that I knew some people that worked here. I can't help but look at the faces of the corpses, expecting to see my colleagues.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and spin my head around, raising my crowbar. Daryl gives me a look, as if telling me to keep moving, and continues walking. He steps carefully around the bodies, with his crossbow at the ready. I follow close behind him, now quiet and alert. I mentally scold myself for letting my guard down. This isn't the time to get emotional.

The whole group moves together, Rick in front and Shane right behind him. Everyone seems to be a bit distracted by the smell and sight of the bodies, just like I was.

"All right, everybody," Shane whispers, not wanting to draw attention to the group, "Keep moving, go on." We all quickly follow, wanting to get away from the morbidity and find somewhere safe. "Stay quiet, let's go."

As we get closer to the entrance, however, the body count increases. It makes sense, I suppose. The CDC must have been like a beacon of hope that everyone was drawn to, like flies to a light. Looking for a cure, for answers, for shelter, just like us. Many of the bodies have military uniforms and guns and the building is surrounded by bunkers. Tanks are parked all along the street. It seems their efforts to restrain the crowd failed though.

"Keep moving, c'mon," Rick hisses. I can see seeds of panic growing in everyone's eyes. The buzzing is growing louder, the smell stronger. It feels like we're moving further and further from safety. "Almost there, almost there."

We reach the entrance, large reinforced doors with caution signs, warning people to stay back. Shane tries to lift one, but it won't budge.

"Nothing?" Rick asks. He tries lifting the door, but again, nothing.

Shane pounds on the door and the noise echoes through the streets. I cringe away from the sound, knowing what that kind of noise attracts.

"There's nobody here," T-Dog says, impatiently. Seems like he wants to get out of here just as badly as I do.

"Then why are these shutters down," Rick counters. He has a point. They're the kind of things that look like they would be closed from the inside. Who would bother closing them if they were on their way out?

"Walkers!" Daryl shouts. We all turn around to see walkers coming at us from all directions.

"Baby, come on," Lori calls out to Rick. He doesn't seem to listen though, still trying to get in.

I hear a chorus of guns cocking as we prepare to face the hoard that's gathering in front of us. But people hesitate to fire, not wanting to make any more noise.

Daryl steps out to the front and takes out the closest one, sending an arrow right through its eye socket. "You lead us into a graveyard!" He yells, aggressively turning back to Rick.

"We made a call," Rick says firmly.

"It was the wrong damn call!"

"Just shut up. You hear me? Just shut up. Shut up!" Shane commands, knocking Daryl's chest, the panic setting in. He turns to Rick now, just as forceful as Daryl was, "Rick, this is a dead end."

"Where are we gonna go?" Lori looks distraught, everyone does. I'm keeping my eye on the hoard, crowbar raised. I should've known the CDC would be like this, given them a better warning.

"Do you hear me?" Rick demands, turning back to the door.

"No blame," Shane tells him, although I know it's on everyone's mind.

"We have to go," Lori tells Rick.

"She's right."

"We can't be here, this close to the city after dark."

"The tanks," I say, remembering the story Jim told me about when Glenn found Rick in Atlanta. "Take shelter in the tanks, I have an idea."

"No! I know what you're thinking," Glenn stands by me protectively.

I ignore him though, and keep instructing the others, "Go! If you guys can make it to them, I can draw the walkers away—"

"No, no one has to sacrifice themselves," Rick interrupts, his attention going quickly back to the door. Others are looking at me now though, open to the idea of any plan at this point.

"I'll be fine, Daryl, cover me while I run back to the truck. I can use the horn to draw them away." He hesitates for a minute but nods, looking back at the group to see if they're on board.

"This could work," Shane agrees, "We can meet you at Fort Benning. Rick, it's our best option."

"On what? No food, no fuel? It's a hundred miles," Carol chimes in.

"125. I checked," Glenn corrects her. They have a point but I'm not worried about Fort Benning right now.

"We don't have to make it to Fort Benning tonight, we just have to get away from here," I try.

I hear another one of Daryl's arrows piercing the skull of a walker. Everyone else seemed to also, spiking their impatience.

"Forget Fort Benning. We need answers tonight, _now_!" Lori yells to the group, but the last part is directed at Rick.

"We'll think of something," Rick replies, trying to calm her down. It comes out too loud and uncertain though and no one is convinced.

"C'mon, let's go," Shane says, trying to reason with his partner. He moves over to me and looks me right in the eye, "You don't have to be the one to do this."

"It's my plan, I can do it," I say, seriously. He hesitates so I tell him, "they'll need you if they want to get to Fort Benning. I can do it." He nods and begins instructing the others, directing them to different tanks.

It has to be me. I barely know them, so it won't matter if I get separated. I also can't help feel but responsible. Part of me knew this would be a dead end but I didn't say anything.

I'm about ready to make a run for it, with Daryl clearing a path, when Rick yells, "The camera! It moved!" I glance back and see Rick, determined as ever to get inside. "It moved." The group moves back toward the door, drawn by hope.

"It's an automated device. It's gears, okay?" Shane again tries reasoning with him, but apparently there's no stopping Rick once he's got a spark of hope. "Man, just listen to me! Look around this place, it's dead, okay? It's dead. You need to let go Rick!"

"Rick, there's nobody here!" Lori shrieks.

"I know you're in there," Rick speaks, deliberately, to the camera. "I know you can hear me." The rest of the group has lost hope though. I hand my backpack to Glenn, not wanting it to weigh me down when I run for my life. "Please, we're desperate. Please help us, we have women and children, no food, hardly any gas left." He starts speaking faster, more frantic. Lori tries to get him to give up but he keeps going, "We have nowhere else to go. If you don't let us in, you're killing us." The hoard is on us now. Everyone is fighting them back, trying to clear as many of them away as we can before we run. "Please, Please help us!" Rick keeps shouting, but Shane is dragging him away. "You're killing us! You're killing us!"

I see an opening in the hoard and share a look with Daryl. We both know, it's now or never.

"I'll see you in Fort Benning," he says. I nod and take off. I sprint about three steps, arrows flying passed me, when I hear a loud noise and see a bright light from behind me. I turn and see the door open and everyone else turned around as well. Daryl spins back to me, fires another arrow, and yells "Get back!"

I abandon my mission, still astonished at the open doors before me.

Our exchanged looks of amazement are interrupted by the approaching snarling behind us. We hurry inside, fully alert. Although we're escaping the walkers, we're not entirely sure what we're heading into.

"Hello?" Rick calls out. I back into the room, last, protecting the rear. "Close those doors." I bring the heavy metal door down and turn around to see we're in a large, open room. The architecture is impressive and modern, suited for a glorified government building. Only now its empty and fortified. "Hello?"

After a moment of silence, we get a response, "Hello?" The unfamiliar voice echoes through the room, startling the group. Glenn cocks his gun and points it in the direction of the voice. Standing on the other side of the grand room is a middle aged man holding a very powerful looking shotgun. I don't recognize him as someone I've ever worked with. "Anybody infected?"

"One of our group was," Rick replies, still shaking from his earlier breakdown. "He didn't make it."

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man fires his questions at us.

"A chance," Rick breathes.

"That's asking an awful lot these days."

"I know."

Silence fills the room as the man examines us. I understand him, how he feels. We're strangers. He has no idea if we're dangerous, what we want from him. He's clearly outnumbered, out gunned. He's obviously the one that let us in though. Part of him must trust us, at least a little.

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission."

"We can do that," Rick answers. A small price to pay for letting us in. I can't help but wonder why he's doing this. We couldn't of been the first ones to come knocking. Not with all those bodies on his front yard. I don't blame him for not letting everyone and their grandmother in though. This isn't a refugee camp, it's a laboratory, one that's supposed to be finding a cure. What changed? I suppose he isn't worried about too many people coming in, considering most people are dead. He could just be lonely. Or maybe he just had a change of heart, like I did.

"You got stuff to bring in, do it now," the man commands. He's obviously reluctant about all of this. "Once this door closes, it stays closed." My heart speeds up, my anxiety back. I don't like not having a way out. I look around but no one else seems alarmed by this. I don't blame them, being locked in here is better than being stuck out there at the moment. I push my fears away. This is what I've chosen. To stick with these people. I can't keep running.

Rick nods at the man and he leads us to a separate entrance so we don't have to get through all those walkers to get our stuff. I take every last thing out of my jeep. I pack all of my journals, notes, and maps into a duffel and stuff the rest into my backpack. When I walk away from my truck, I feel sick, like I'm leaving my home. I suck it up though, and run back to the CDC. Jumping over bodies, I keep my eye on the large hoard that's just beginning to wander away from the other entrance.

Suddenly I feel something cold and sticky clasp around my ankle. My leg pulled out from under me, I fall to the ground. One hand on my duffel and the other reaching for my crowbar, I don't have any free hands to break my fall so I land hard on my shoulder. I turn over quickly and see a walker with no legs, gripping my ankle. I bring my crowbar down on its skull. The hooked end catches on the underneath of its jawbone. I know I missed the brain because it's still pulling my ankle and trying to snap its teeth at me. I yank my crowbar so its head is pulled away from me and smash in the back of its decaying head with the side of my gun, over and over again until it stops moving.

Panting heavily, I stare at the damage. Despite my many encounters with the Infected, I can never handle sneak attacks. If I see them coming at me before they get me, I can keep a level head. But not like this.

"Look out!" Before I can even turn my head, I feel blood spray on my back and across the side of my face. A walker collapses to the left of me, an arrow through its temple. Not wanting a _third_ surprise attack, I scramble to my feet and cock my gun. I spin around, ready to shoot anything dead that starts moving.

Daryl runs up next to me, crossbow at the ready. He starts to raise his hand, like he's about to reach out to me, but stops himself. He pulls a bandana from his back pocket and hands it to me. I look at him for a second, confused, before I feel the walker blood start to run down my face.

"Oh… thanks," I pant, quickly wiping my face. He nods but avoids eye contact. Before I can return the bandana, he picks my duffel up off the ground, pulls the arrow from the walker's head, and continues running back to the CDC.

I stare after him for a moment, forgetting my grudge against him, still shaking from my close encounters. Hearing groans behind me, I start yanking at my crowbar, still lodged in the walker's skull.

DARYL

I'm runnin' back to the side entrance we took to get our stuff, but I glance back at Red, makin' sure nothings sneaking up on her again. She's still there, trying to pry her crowbar outta that walker's skull. She gives it one final pull and I can hear it's jawbone snap. She starts runnin' back too, so I look away and keep movin'. What's she doing? Not paying attention when she's surrounded by walkers. I don't know how the fuck she survived on her own so long. Gotta admit though, she beat the shit out of the first one that grabbed at her. I know she landed on her shoulder hard so I grabbed her duffel. I don't care if she's hurt or nothin', just couldn't have her slowin' us down.

I think about her crazy ass plan to save everyone by running through a hoard of walkers. I know she was doin' it to help get us out of that mess, but it seemed like she wasn't too upset about being separated from the group either. I can't figure out what's up with this chick. Ever since she went off on me after I saw her changing at her truck, I've been thinking about her. It's goddamn annoying.

It must just be guilt from trying to kill her sister's husband. Whatever. I made my peace with Jim. She's just gotta grow up and realize you have to do shit you don't like if you want to survive.

I stop thinking about Red when I step back into the CDC. Looks like Rick, Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog made it back just fine with all the stuff.

"Vi, seal the main entrance." The guy that let us in says, speaking into an intercom after Red stumbles in. "Kill the power up here."

Rick introduces himself to the guy, who says his name is Dr. Edwin Jenner. I don't trust him, not with the way he left us out there for so long, screamin' at the door. Don't have many options though, so I guess we're sticking with it.

"Ashlyn! Are you ok?" Glenn runs over to Red, who's still breathing heavily after being attacked. He looks her over. "You're covered in blood."

"I'm fine." I notice her drop her hand from her shoulder. "It's walker blood, not my own."

"As long as you're ok ." She smiles at him and gives him a light hug.

She looks over at me, catching me watching them, so I turn away. "Daryl," she says, comin' up to me. "I'll give you back your bandana after I wash it. It's got too much zombie guts on it for me to feel right handing it back now."

"Do whatever you want," I mutter, not looking at her.

I hear her scoff, just under her breath, but she keeps talking. "Well, thanks for looking out for me. Back when we were locked out, too."

"Yeah, don't start thinking I'm giving you special treatment or nothin'," I grumble. What's she pretending to be all friendly for? I look over when she doesn't reply. She's just standin' there with her eyebrows raised and arms crossed, looking all smug. "What are you lookin' at?"

"If you're not giving me any special treatment, then I can carry my own bag," she replies, giving a pointed look at her duffel. Goddammit. I thrust the bag back at her and she grabs it, slinging it over the shoulder she didn't fall on. She cracks a smile, clearly amused. I start walking away but I hear her say, "Really though, thanks."

Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I wanted to get further along to when they're having dinner and stuff but it was getting too long so I'm splitting the chapter. Since I already have some of the next one done, it should be up Thursday of Friday. Feedback is really appreciated, especially about the Daryl parts. Thanks for all the reviews and follows!


	7. Chapter 7

ASHLYN

Daryl walks over to where Rick, Shane, and Dr. Jenner are standing, but still hangs back. I remember what Jim told me about him and I suppose it's true: Daryl hasn't been fully accepted by the group yet.

Dr. Jenner leads us into an elevator that seems just large enough for all of us to cram into. I somehow end up in the back, between Glenn and Daryl. Like most of us, I keep my head down. I can tell Daryl is pressing himself into the corner, giving me some space. I'm glad for it; my shoulder's still throbbing from when that walker pulled me down earlier. I sneak a glance up at Daryl, peering through my bangs. Standing this close to him, it's easy to feel small compared to his tall, broad frame. He doesn't notice me though. His eyes are on Dr. Jenner, or his gun at least.

"Doctors always go around packing heat like that?" Daryl questions.

"Well there were plenty left lying around so I familiarized myself," Jenner responds, looking around at all of us. He must notice the heavy atmosphere so he adds, "but you look harmless enough. Except you." The last part directed at Carl. "I'll have to keep my eye on you." Carl looks up at him, trying to play it cool but smiling anyway.

The elevator opens up and we follow Jenner into a large white hallway. It reminds me of a hospital, with its fluorescent lights and linoleum floors.

"Are we underground?" Carol asks. I wonder the same thing, realizing I didn't pay attention if we were going up or down in the elevator.

"Are you claustrophobic?" Jenner asks, answering our question.

"A little."

"Try not to think about it."

I feel sorry for Carol but the answer reassures me, at least a little. Underground sounds safe. We don't have to worry about making noise that might attract walkers or having lights on that might attract other survivors. Part of me thinks of a grave, but my practical side ignores it. This is the best place to be, I tell myself.

We reach the end of the hallway and step into a massive room with a high ceiling. It has a black floor and dark walls and a couple dozen small white desks in the center. Dr. Jenner calls out, seemingly to no one, "Vi, bring up the lights in the big room." Bright white lights flash on. "Welcome to Zone 5," Jenner says, walking toward the white desks.

"Where is everybody, the other doctors, the staff?" Rick wastes no time in asking what's on all of our minds.

Standing in the center of the room, Jenner replies, "I'm it. It's just me here." Contrary to Rick's usual poker face, it's clear he wasn't ready to hear this. He was counting on the CDC having some sort of cure, or at least people working on it. Now he finds out there's just one man left to fix everything. Although I was expecting this, it still hurts to see it firsthand. Some part of me was hoping for the same thing Rick was. Mostly I was hoping the people I had worked with in the past might still be here. I only knew a couple people, but I thought—hoped really—that if they were still alive, this is where they'd be. Fighting to find an answer. I understand how idealistic that was, they had families just like the rest of us, but it still hurts to let go of the idea. I can't think about it anymore. It's all in the past now.

"What about the person you were speaking with?" Lori questions. "Vi?"

"Vi. Say hello to our guests. Tell them… Welcome." Jenner addresses 'Vi' but is staring at us, a strange sense of amusement and lonliness on his face.

"Hello guests. Welcome." A computerized voice greets us from hidden speakers in the room.

"I'm all that's left." Even with Jenner's straight forward response, Rick seems to have trouble taking in this new information. "I'm sorry."

Dr. Jenner gets a small box from one of the desks and leads us to another room. This one much smaller. It looks like a classroom almost, probably a room for small meetings. He directs us to sit and starts opening up the box at a table in the front of the room. He puts on blue latex gloves and starts preparing his needles and tubes for our blood tests.

He starts taking our blood, one by one.

"What's the point? If we were infected, we'd be running a fever," Andrea insists, as Jenner wipes her arm with alcohol. She's right. There are easier ways of checking, but I suppose he's just doing his job.

"I've already broken ever rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me at least be thorough." I understand his caution. We did just come in after being surrounded by walkers. I think about how I must look to him. Covered in blood, dirt, and sweat.

When it's my turn to get tested, after everyone else, I sit down at the table across from Jenner. I keep my head down, as he starts preparing to take my blood. "And who are you?" he asks, politely enough.

"Ashlyn Turner," I answer reflexively, but immediately regret giving him my last name. He looks up from his needles and examines my face.

"That sounds familiar," he says, still staring at me. "Have we met before?"

"No, I'm sure we haven't," I reply, not looking at him. It isn't a lie, but I don't want to say why my name probably sounds familiar to him. Thinking about my work is bad enough, I sure as hell don't want to talk about it.

"Huh." He didn't seem entirely convinced, but he continued taking my blood anyway. "That's it," he says when he's finished. We all start getting up, but Andrea stumbles a bit. "Is she ok?"

"She hasn't eaten in days," Jacqui says, helping her walk. "None of us have."

"Well, let's get some food then," Jenner says.

He leads us into a cafeteria and tells, "Have whatever you'd like." Filled with energy, everyone begins rummaging through cabinets and pulling out bags of food.

"Now let's all wait a moment," Lori calls out above the noise, "none of us have sat down and had a proper meal in months. Let's do this right." Everyone nods in agreement so she continues, "Glenn, push those tables together. Carl, Sophia, here, put out the silverware." We all start preparing the dinner. I help Glenn move some chairs, others start putting a dinner together. It almost feels like we're a big, strange family, getting ready for Thanksgiving dinner. After I help Glenn though, I'm not sure what to do. The kitchen is full of people, those that aren't cooking are talking, and the table is already set. I feel painfully out of place. There people have been living surviving together, living together. I just tagged along a couple days ago.

I stand around awkwardly for a minute, watching everything from the outside, before I try to slip away. I wanted to find out more of what happened by coming here. Maybe if I look around, I can find Dr. Hanson's old office—

"Ashlyn! Where are you going? Come over here," T-Dog calls out to me. I turn back in shock for a moment, before walking over to him. He's standing with Shane and Rick, with Daryl leaning on a nearby table.

"Did you need something?" I ask. I felt bad for trying to sneak away, but it didn't look like there was anything left to help with.

"Naw, just wanted to talk," he says.

"I wanted to thank you. You offered to sacrifice yourself for us back there," Rick says seriously. "That would've been the second time you saved us."

It takes me a moment to realize what he's talking about. Then another moment to get over my surprise. "Oh, outside the building. It was just an idea, never even did anything," I mumble the last part.

"No. He's right. You barely know us and you were going to risk your life to save us. It means a lot," Shane says.

"I wasn't gonna let anything get her," Daryl speaks up, moving from his table. "It takes balls to run through a herd of walkers though."

"Thanks" is all I can think to say. I wasn't expecting this kind of gratitude, and I definitely wasn't expecting Daryl to say something nice. I gulp, remembering I still have a lot to say to him. I have to thank him for covering me, back at the camp, and I have to apologize for blowing up at him. This isn't going to be easy.

"C'mon everybody, food's ready. Grab a plate," Lori calls from the kitchen. I sigh in relief, happy for an excuse not to talk to Daryl yet.

Everyone rushes over and loads up their plate with food. Nothing fancy really, but eating it off a plate at a set table surrounded by people makes it so much better. The room is filled with conversation, giggling, and forks scraping plates. Dale comes to the table with a bottle of red wine and starts pouring everyone a glass. Oh my god, I haven't had any alcohol for weeks. I had some whiskey around the start of the outbreak but it didn't last too long. I take a small sip of the wine, intending to savor it, but then I take a large gulp. I never liked wine much, but it's just what I need right now.

"You know, in Italy, children have a little bit of wine with dinner," Dale jokes, pouring Lori a glass. "And in France."

"Well, when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then," Lori says, with good humor.

"What's it gonna hurt," Rick says, "Come on." Lori gives him a serious but amused face. "Come on," he tries again. Everyone laughs and it looks like a scene right out of a sitcom. She nods, resigning, and Carl is handed a cup with a bit of wine in it.

"There you are young lad," Dale says.

The table is silent while Carl takes a sip.

"Ewwww," Carl scrunches up his face and sets the glass back on the table. The group laughs while Carl keeps shaking his head, sticking out his tongue.

"Just stick to soda pop there, bud," Shane says, not quite as amused as the rest of us. Now that I think about it, he's been pretty quiet.

"Not you Glenn," Daryl calls across the table to Glenn.

"What?"

"Keep drinking , little man. I want to see how red your face can get," Daryl teases, pouring himself a big glass of wine.

"Ha ha ha." Glenn takes the jibe well and everyone laughs.

We all turn our attention to Rick as he taps his knife against a glass and stands up. "It seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly."

"He is more than just our host," T-Dog says, raising his glass. Everyone else chimes in, toasting to Jenner.

"Hear, hear!"

"Here's to you, Doc,"

"Booyah!" Daryl shouts, others copying him.

Rick looks Jenner straight in the eye, "Thank you."

As everyone drinks to Jenner, Shane speaks up, "So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?" His serious tone cuts through the pleasant atmosphere and I look over quickly at Jenner. My heart is pounding and my body is cold. I already know what must have happened. I don't want to hear it.

"All the, uh, other doctors," Shane continues, "that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?" The whole table looks uncomfortable.

"We're celebrating, Shane," Rick tries to stop him. "Don't need to do this now."

"Whoa wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move, supposed to find all the answers. Instead we," he chuckles, "we found him." He points back to Jenner. I suddenly find myself angry with Shane. Jenner lets us in, saving us from walkers, feds us, gives us wine, gives us shelter. And he's talking bad about him, like he isn't even here? I understand he wants answers, but there's better ways, better times, to go about getting them. "Found one man. Why?"

"Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families," Jenner replies, no sign of being offended. I close my eyes, hoping that's what the people I know did and fearing what he's going to say next. "And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted."

"Every last one?" Shane presses.

"No," he says, more serious this time, "many couldn't face walking out the door. They… opted out." He emphasizes the last part, making it clear what happened. I cringe and sit back in my chair. All of the food and wine in my stomach suddenly nauseating me. "There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time."

"You didn't leave. Why?" Andrea asks, not in a rude way, but in a genuinely curious way.

"I just kept working. Hoping, to do some good."

"Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man," Glenn says to Shane. I'm sure everyone agrees with him. The atmosphere is heavy but conversation eventually resumes at the table, just not as jubilant as before.

When everyone is finished, I pour myself a second glass of wine, and we follow Jenner down another hallway, this one with the rooms we'll be staying in.

"Most of the facility is powered down. Including housing, so you'll have to make do here. The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage if you like. There's a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy." He bends down to look at Carl and Sophia, "Just, don't plug in the video games, okay? Or anything that draws power." He stands back up. "The same applies, if you shower go easy on the hot water."

Glenn turns to T-Dog, "Hot water?"

"That's what the man said."

The promise of a hot shower restores the mood and everyone seems happy again. We all rush off, into our own rooms.

I set my stuff down in what looks like an old lounge room. It's got a couch and table with a couple chairs. I pull the picture Jim gave me out of my pocket and prop it against a lamp on the counter. I find a bathroom with a shower connected to it so I lock the door, strip down, and go into the shower. Water rushes over my body, washing away the thick, top layer of blood and grime. I pump some soap out of a dispenser on the wall and get to work, scrubbing myself clean. Even though the soap and shampoo are cheap, generic stuff, the scent alone is wonderful to me. I spend longer in the shower than I intended, but it's still quick. I wrap a towel around me and go into my new room. Sitting down on the couch, I sip at my wine, reluctant to move. The water felt good, but my body is still sore. As I finish my second glass of wine, the throbbing in my shoulder becomes just a dull ache. Getting cold sitting around wet, I reluctantly get up and dry myself off. I slip into my cleanest undergarments and look in my duffel for the clothes with the least number of bloodstains. I sigh, not finding anything remotely clean. Before I put on a dirty tank top, I remember the dress I keep in my backpack. I find it, at the bottom of my bag, under all my books and maps and food. I kept it in my backpack to keep it clean. It isn't anything fancy, just a casual, light sundress with a floral print. Mel gave it to me, for my last birthday. Even though I loved it and it looked great on me, I rarely ever wore it. I packed it, thinking I'd wear it when I saw her, but that never happened.

I pull it on, pleased with how clean I feel. I brush out my long, wet hair, and tie it back, into a high bun, my short baby hairs curling at the back of my neck.

I sigh. I know I need to talk to Daryl. I suppose it'll be easier if I'm drunk, but before I get more to drink, I find his bandana and do my best to wash the stains out of it.

When I'm done, I walk back to the cafeteria, barefoot. The only shoes I kept with me are hiking boots and running shoes. I didn't expect a time would come for flats. Before I turn the corner back into the cafeteria, I hear Daryl's voice, yelling, "Hey little man, does everyone in China drink like a girl, or is it just you?"

"Shut up man, I'm Korean anyway," Glenn retorts in a I-don't-want-to-deal-with-your-shit-right-now kinda way.

I laugh as I walk into the room, "You're not still picking on poor Glenn, are you Daryl?" Daryl, Glenn, and T-Dog all look up at me, suddenly making me self-conscious. I haven't thought about how I looked in months but now I'm completely aware of my appearance.

"He is! But it's okay now, because you'll beat him up for me. Right?" Glenn jokes, more than a little drunk. I still feel Daryl's eyes on me, but I do my best to ignore it.

"You bet," I play along, "no one's going to talk shit about you if I have anything to say about it."

"Is that right?" Daryl chimes in, taking the joke as a direct challenge, "And what are you gonna do to stop me?" He moves toward me from the table he was leaning on and crosses his arms over his chest.

Glenn jumps up from his chair. He has arms in front of him, pretending to point a gun at Daryl, "Don't talk about the kid like that you _fucking shit_ or I'll blow your head off!" He yells, mimicking me when I jumped out from behind the cars in Atlanta and screamed at the vatos kidnapping him.

I burst into laughter as Daryl pantomimes getting shot through the chest by Glenn.

"That's right, nobody fucks with my Glenn and gets away with it," I joke.

"Well I don't suppose you've got a gun hidden on ya at the moment so I don't think I've got anything to be scared off," Daryl says, eyeing me again.

I can't help but blush. My dress isn't too revealing, but the way he looks at me is still unnerving. Not bad, just unnerving. I don't want to look flustered though, so I change the subject, "I didn't come out here to talk, I came to get something to drink."

"My kinda girl," T-Dog raises his glass to me.

I walk over to the bar. I notice Daryl's drinking straight out of a bottle of Jack. I don't feel like drinking wine anymore so I pour myself some whiskey.

"I've got an idea, wait here," Glenn says excitedly, running out of the cafeteria. Unsure what to do now, I take a gulp of whiskey and sit down at a table.

"So what do you think of all this?" T-Dog asks. I just look at him for a second, unsure what he means exactly. "Of the CDC, of Jenner, all of it."

I think it over carefully for a moment, then answer, "I think we're lucky he was here."

"Yeah, well I think he's too smart for his own good. All them educated people are all talk, no action. When shit got real, they bailed. What good was all their fancy books and shit when the dead started walkin' round, eatin' people?" Daryl ranted. I didn't have an answer for him. He said what I'd been thinking about myself for a long time. I don't know how, but he always seemed to hit a nerve when he talked to me.

Glenn runs back into the room with a dart board under his arm and a handful of darts. "They were in the rec room. Let's play." He starts hanging up the board and Daryl strides over, obviously up for it.

"Let's make this more interesting. You lose, you take a shot," he says, pouring whiskey into a shot glass. "Now, who thinks they can beat me?"

Sorry this chapter was late again. the fourth of july got kind of crazy for me. Anyway, I really don't know how I feel about this chapter at all. I started deviating from the show a lot toward the end so I'm more than a little worried it's coming off weird. I thought I should end the chapter here though, so you can give me feedback on the direction it's taking before I continue.

Thanks for all the reviews and follows!

Icec: thanks for the detailed review. You're right, Ashlyn's dynamic with the group definitely changed after she almost distracted the walkers for them.


	8. Chapter 8

Glenn runs back into the room with a dart board under his arm and a handful of darts. "They were in the rec room. Let's play." He starts hanging up the board and Daryl strides over, obviously up for it.

"Let's make this more interesting. You lose, you take a shot," he says, pouring whiskey into a shot glass. "Now, who thinks they can beat me?"

I stand up from the table and cross the room, "Oh, you're on." Fuck. What am I doing? I have no confidence I can beat Daryl at darts. Especially not after I've been drinking. I eye Daryl as he takes another swig of Jack. Okay, maybe I can do this. He must be at least a little tipsy at this point, right?

"You got a lotta confidence there, Red," he taunts. He picks up a dart and flings it at the board. It sticks about an inch away from the bulls eye, landing in the 16 point section. "You sure you want to do this?" I definitely shouldn't do this but his smirk and arrogant attitude are driving me insane.

Instead of answering him I just ask, "So how are we going to do this?"

He looks at me amused before answering, "We take turns throwing a dart, and we each get three darts. Add up our points and whoever has the least takes a shot."

"C'mon, Ashlyn! You can beat him!" Glenn cheers me on from the sideline.

T-Dog just laughs and says, "Good luck with that."

I set down my whiskey and stride over to where Daryl's standing. He hands me a dart and takes a step back. Thank God I'm left handed. My right shoulder's still a little sore and I don't want to make it any worse. I stand right where he stood when he threw the dart, so he's right behind me. I take a deep breath and exhale, throwing the dart.

"Shit."

Daryl bursts into laughter. I just barely made it on the board. I still manage to make 13 points though. I really don't mind taking the shot, I'm drinking anyway. I just don't want to lose, not to Daryl.

I step away, and after he finishes laughing, Daryl throws another dart, this time hitting the triple ring.

Daryl whistles, "That's another 27 points right there. Get ready to drink, girl!"

"Not tonight, Dixon," I say, acting way more confident than I am. I pick up my second dart, step back in front of the board, and throw it. The dart sticks a lot closer to the center this time, but unfortunately it lands in the 8 point section. I throw my head back in annoyance and step away again.

"You should stick to usin' your crowbar. You're a lot better with that thing than you are with darts," Daryl laughs. He throws his last dart, this time only getting 11 points. Not that it matters, his total is still much higher than mine. "54 points, booyah!" Daryl yells, taking a victory swig of whiskey.

I can't help but laugh. He's drinking so much, a shot wouldn't even matter to him. He raises an eyebrow at me, but I just walk over to throw my last dart.

"Ashlyn Turner, getting ready for the throw," Glenn commentates from a table. "She's 33 points down, but she's still got a chance to catch up. Just look at that concentration on her face."

Trying not to laugh at Glenn, I do my best to focus on the board, but it just ends up hurting my head. Ugh, I hate being a light weight. I sigh and throw the dart as hard as I can.

"Holy shit!" Glenn yells. I blink at the board, barely believing what I'm seeing. My dart's stuck in the single bull, the green ring around the bullseye. "You were so close!"

"Damn, Red!" Daryl walks over to the board, "that was a hell of a shot!"

"Too bad that's only 25 points. Daryl still wins," T-Dog says.

"That's right," Daryl gloats, bringing me the shot. "Drink up!"

"Oh, darn," I fake pout for a second. "Well if I have to." I take the shot, downing it in one gulp. It burns my throat on the way down but I can feel it warming up my body, bringing heat to my cheeks.

I catch Daryl staring at me, but as soon as I look at him, he turns away. "Anyone else think they can beat me?" Daryl hollers, "Or are y'all too chicken?"

Glenn stands up and points at Daryl, "Prepare to be defeated, Daryl." He turns to me, "Don't worry Ashlyn, I'll avenge you." He stumbles over to throw a dart. Staring at the dart board with complete focus, he flings the dart, only to hit the wall.

Everyone—except Glenn—bursts out laughing.

"Nice shot, little man," Daryl mocks, "try aiming for the board next time." With just a quick glance at the board, he throws a dart, hitting just outside the single bull.

The rest of the game goes like that. Daryl hitting around the center and Glenn missing the board two out of three tries. Glenn takes his shot in defeat and we convince T-Dog to play a round. He almost beats Daryl, too, but in the end, the redneck wins again.

The night goes on, everyone laughing and drinking, not thinking about the world outside the CDC. We all accept Daryl as darts champion of Atlanta, but we keep playing anyway. I beat Glenn at a round, "betraying his friendship"—according to him at least. Daryl and I keep throwing darts at the board, joking with each other, not paying attention to points. After a while, Glenn passes out on a table, much to our amusement. I can't remember a time I've had this much fun, not caring what people think, not worrying about work I have to get done. I used to go to dinner parties with Mike all the time, but it was different. Appearances mattered too much for me to ever relax and everything just felt fake to me. This is different. There's no pressure to play the role of the perfect girlfriend, no boring stories I have to pretend to be interested in.

Eventually, T-Dog excuses himself for the night, leaving just me, Daryl, and an unconscious Glenn in the cafeteria. With the room suddenly quiet and my eyelids getting heavy, I'm about to call it a night too when I remember the reason I came here in the first place. I was having so much fun, thinking about this now is like suddenly being dosed with cold water. I walk over to the bar and grab Daryl's bandana. I sigh, wondering if it's really necessary that I do this. I feel like we're on good terms now. I even realize I've completely forgiven him for almost killing Jim.

No, this is important. I don't want any bad feelings between us and I want him to know I'm grateful for everything he's done for me. Besides, I thought it'd be easier with a few drinks in me, so it's better to get it done now.

DARYL

T-Dog's gone and that light weight pussy's passed out on a table, so it's just me and Red now. I keep throwin' darts at the board but I'm listening to her. Her footsteps echo in the room and I can tell she's goin' to the counter with all the booze. Damn, she's not getting' another drink, is she? She hasn't had that much but I can tell it's affecting her. Her cheeks went all red, just like her hair, and she's walkin' unsteady, like she's on a boat. I remember how she looked when she came in, all washed up nice in that little dress. I close my eyes and rub my temples. Fuck that dress, man. What's she thinking? A room full of lonely guys drinkin' booze and she's gonna come in here looking like that? It didn't look racy or nothin, not on purpose at least. It hugs her body just right though—

I shake my head and throw another dart, just making it on the board. I keep starin' ahead, trying to focus on the target but it keeps movin'. I try blinking at it but everytime I close my eyes I see her pullin' her top off in her truck. I throw another dart but just hit the wall, chippin' the paint.

"Jesus Fucking Christ," I mumble. I know she's over at the drinks but I don't hear her pouring nothin'. Instead I hear her sigh and then walk over towards me.

"Hey," she says in a soft voice, "Daryl?"

Still throwing darts, I don't turn around, just grunt at her, "What?"

"Here… I washed the blood out."

I glance over my shoulder to see what she's talking about and I see her holding out my bandana that I gave to her earlier. I lower the dart and turn to face her. "Oh, uh, yeah." I grab it out of her hand and stuff it in my back pocket.

"I wanted to thank you, properly, for all the times you helped me." I'm about to tell her off again, that she needs to stop thinking I'm paying attention to her more than the others, but she keeps goin', "I don't think you're giving me special treatment or anything, I think you're just the kind of guy that looks out for people. So, thanks."

What's she talking about now? Shit. I rub the back of my head, uncomfortable for some reason. She's just standin' there staring at me so I turn back around. "Fuck, you don't have to get all weird about it," I mutter before nailing another dart at the board. "Shootin' dead people in the head doesn't make me no saint."

"I also wanted to apologize." She's talkin' so quiet, I can barely hear her. I do though, and spin around, thinking I must've heard her wrong. _Apologize? _This girl must be completely fuckin' wasted if she's apologizing to _me._

"What're you talkin' about?" I ask, still in shock.

"For yelling at you…" She's apologizing for that? Fuck, I tried killing Jim and she's apologizing for getting mad about it? She must think I don't remember what she's talking about cause she keeps going, "When we were at the camp, I was mad about what happened with Jim… that time you caught me changing and I blew up at you…" I remember it again, her shirt going up over her head and her body…

I feel the heat in my cheeks again and realize I'm still just staring at her, all of her. I turn back around, trying to focus on the board, and throw another dart. It hits the wall and falls down.

"I tried putting an axe in your brother-in-law's head," I grumble.

"I don't blame you for that," she sighs, "sometimes I think that would've been better." Again, she surprises me. I face her again, but now she's further away, sitting on a table, deep in thought. After a moment she continues, "He could've easily turned and bit someone else. He also wouldn't of suffered for so long. He looked like he was in so much pain the entire time. I was thinking selfishly, wanting more time with him." She looks up at me, with a broken smile, "Sorry, that was a depressing thing to say."

This girl must be fuckin' stupid if she believes that shit. I go back to darts and say what's on my mind, "That night at the camp, when the walkers attacked and you passed out. Jim was talkin' about you. Sayin' you warned them about all this shit and were comin' up to Atlanta to help him and your sister. That doesn't sound selfish to me. Hell, Merle wouldn't of tried so hard to find me. If we hadn't already been in the same spot at the same time, I probably never would've seen him after the world went to shit." I think about it for a moment, wondering if that's true. "He probably would've been off, gettin' stoned and fuckin' around with girls, not out lookin' for me."

She's quiet for a long time after that. I can feel her eyes on my back. I bet she's trying to come up with something nice to say. That's what people always do, but I don't need it. She's never even met Merle, no point trying to defend him.

I hear her moving around and then she says, "Stop being so nice to me. I don't need it." Shit, it's like she read my mind. I look back at her. Now she's laying out on the table, her legs dangling over the side and her hands over her face. She looks exhausted. "Thanks though."

Suddenly, Glenn starts snoring loudly and Red sits up to look at him. He snores again and this time she throws her head back, her laugh ringing throughout the room. Her hair was so neat and pulled back when she came out here, but it's like every time she laughed, throwing her head back, more hair escaped. When she stops laughing this time though, she grabs her head and moans. "Was that whiskey pure alcohol? Fucking hell."

She looks over at me, through her bangs, and slides off the table. "I think it's time I go to bed. But first," she glances at Glenn, "maybe we should help him?"

I put down the darts and walk over to Glenn. "He's got spirit, I'll give him that. If only he had the stomach for it." I throw one of his arms over my shoulder and pull him up, putting all of his weight on me.

"I'll get the other arm," Red says, grabbing for his other wrist.

"Nuh-uh," I grunt. "You're not puttin' any weight on that fucked up shoulder of yours."

She stares at me in shock. "You knew?"

"Do I look like a dumbass? Just help me get the doors. Where's he sleeping anyway?"

Red leads me down the hall as I drag China Man along. We drop him off in his room and Red throws a blanket over him. I go find a bathroom and grab a small trash bin, in case he wakes up and pukes. When I get back into the room though, Red's sitting on the bed, her head against the wall, passed out.

"Am I the only one that can handle their booze around here?" I ask the room of unconscious people. Apparently I am.

Red's got her head tilted to the side, her hair fallin' in her face. One hand's in her lap and the other's in Glenn's hair, like she passed out while she was runnin' her fingers through it. Her cheeks are still red and her lips are parted, just like when she passed out last time, back at camp. It's harder than usual to look away, probably on account of all the whiskey I've had. She just looks so vulnerable. Didn't her parents teach her anything about watching out for herself? For fuck's sake. If it was Merle here, instead of me, he would – fuck, I don't want to think about that. I can practically here Merle now. "C'mon baby brotha, you ain't gonna tap that? What, don't like girls? Be a fuckin' man!"

"Ugh, _shut up," _I mumble, closing my eyes and rubbing my head. I'm too drunk for this shit. But what do I do? I can't just leave her here. "Red. Red, wake up," I whisper. "_Red." _ She doesn't move, except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Guess it can't be helped. I slip my arm under her legs, trying not to think about how soft they are, and wrap my other arm around her torso. She's every bit as light as I remember her being.

I carry her out of Glenn's room and into the hall. Wait. Where's her damn room? I stumble around for a bit, peaking into doors that aren't closed. I make it to the room at the very end and tap the door open with my foot. I let out a sigh of relief when I see her bag in it and walk in. Red moves around a bit, curling her body into my chest, putting her head into the crook of my arm. I set her down gently onto the couch, keeping her off her bad shoulder. I notice a picture on the table and pick it up. It's wrinkled like it was folded at some point, but I can still tell what it is. There's five people on a boat, I recognize two of them as Red and Jim. I figure the blonde woman is her sister and the two little boys must be her nephews. This is the family she lost, huh?

Red rolls over, her hair falling out of her bun and her dress strap slipping off her shoulder. I turn to leave, thinking I shouldn't be in here any longer.

"Mmmh," I hear from behind me. "Daryl?" Her voice is soft but confused. I turn around and see her, propping herself up on her elbow and rubbing her eyes. "Where are you going?" Her eyelids flutter as she tries to open them, but I can tell she's still half asleep.

"Just go back to sleep," I say, walking out the door.

This was a pretty short chapter but I was really nervous writing it since none of it happened in the show. Next chapter will fall back into the show's plotline but there will be a lot of Ashlyn's past revealed too. I'm thinking of at some point doing a bonus chapter that tells the story of Melanie's life, showing what her and ashlyn's childhood was like, how Mel met Jim, and how she died. Let me know if that's something you'd want to read!

Hunter Quigley and Icec: thanks for the encouragement to deviate from the plot, hope I didn't disappoint!

Tash: hope you enjoyed the daryl pov stuff, he definitely noticed her in that dress lol

Thanks to everyone else that followed and reviewed, VampWolf92, HermioneandMarcus, Jag, Lilly72, and hayleyjune13


	9. Chapter 9

(TW: suicide)

ASHLYN

"Ashlyn? Are you awake?" I moan and roll over, not addressing the soft voice that called out to me. "We're serving breakfast. You should get up now if you want some." Slightly more awake now, I recognize the voice as Carol's.

"Mmm. Yeah," I grunt, "be right up." I hear the door close and moan again. Everything hurts. My head, my shoulder. My stomach doesn't feel too great either. I roll over again, only to fall off the couch. "Son of a bitch." I lay on the floor for a while, trying to remember last night. I remember talking to Daryl, although some of our conversations are a bit blurry, I remember thanking him and apologizing and I remember him comforting me. I think after that was when we helped Glenn back to his room but that's the last thing I remember. I don't remember coming back to my room, but I must've gotten here somehow. Either way, I'm glad things are settled with Daryl now.

I finally get up when I realize I have to piss like crazy. I take care of everything I need to in the bathroom, hardly bothering to fix my hair. I leave the dress on—it's still the cleanest thing I have at the moment, but I throw a dark red hoodie on over it and pull up the hood. Just because I don't feel like fixing my hair doesn't mean people need to see it. Not caring they don't match with my dress, I pull on my hiking boots, not sure when I'll be back in my room.

I shuffle down the hall to the cafeteria, thinking I haven't been this hung over in ages. It takes all my will power not to curl up on the floor and go back to sleep.

Once I get to the cafeteria, I immediately want to turn back. It's filled with people, talking and making noise. I shut my eyes tight and cover my ears. "Ugghh." But then I catch the faint smell of scrambled eggs and decide I made the right decision coming here.

It looks like everyone except Daryl, Shane, and Jenner are here. Rick and Glenn are the only ones besides me that look hung over, and Glenn looks the worst of all of us. I hear people chuckle as I approach the table.

"Look who's up and about, so early in the morning," T-Dog teases.

Rubbing my eyes with my sleeve, I just motion for him to leave me alone and plop down next to Glenn. This just makes everyone laugh even more. We must look like a pretty pathetic duo.

"Here, from Jenner," Lori says, passing me a bottle of asprin. I take the asprin gratefully and lean back in my chair, exhausted.

T-Dog comes over, too energetic for this early in the morning, "Eggs. Powdered, but I do 'em _good." _He starts spooning them onto our plates. When he gets to Glenn and I, he says, "Protein. Helps with the hangover."

"I love you so much right now, T-Dog," I say, shoveling eggs into my mouth.

"Don't ever ever ever let me drink again," Glenn moans.

I notice Daryl come in at some point. We make eye contact and I'm suddenly embarrassed. I probably made a fool out of myself last night, said a bunch of overly emotional stuff, and now I look like shit. He awkwardly nods at me before looking away and going about his business. At least he's nice enough not to tease me about anything. He certainly has the perfect chance.

I push my plate away after I've scraped it clean and put my head down on the table, starting to drift back to sleep. I faintly hear the conversation around me. It seems Shane came in with some scratches on his face or something. I don't know, I just want to sleep.

DARYL

I start putting together a plate of food, pilin' eggs onto my plate and a bit of everything else they've got out. I don't get many chances to eat like a fat ass and I'm not about to pass this one up. I eat standing up, not seeing much space at the table. When I came in and saw Red piggin' out on eggs, I was about to call her out on bein' about as ladylike as a rabid walker, but then she looked up at me and I blanked. All I could see was her on the couch last night, all pathetic looking, asking me where I was goin'. I glance over at her again, in all her hungover-glory. She's still got that dress on, but now she's got a hoodie over it. It looks like she tried hidin' her mess of hair by pullin' up the hood, but it's not doin' any good. I remember the asprin I brought, compliments of Merle's stash, thinkin' she could use it after last night. I reach into my pocket to get it for her, but I see a bottle of it right next to her already. Must be from Jenner. I drop my hand and go back to eatin' my eggs, turning so I'm not facing her anymore.

Jenner comes into the room and everyone greets him. I notice him looking over Red, all amused. The fuck he thinks is so funny? He gets himself a cup of coffee and looks back at Red again. "Oh, I see you must've had a pretty fun night. I was hoping to talk to you this morning but I'm not sure you look up to it, Dr. Turner."

I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth and look at him confused. Who the hell is he talking to? There ain't any doctors left here, 'cept him. Red's head flies up from the table, her eyes wide. Everyone's got their eyes on her and I finally get it. _Turner_. That's Red's name. She's a fucking _doctor?_ I drop my fork to my plate. I could tell wasn't no uneducated loser or nothin' but since when was she a fucking _doctor?_

ASHLYN

I snap my head up and stare at Jenner. My mouth hanging open and my hair sticking out of my hood, the only thing I can do is stare in shock. He's leaning against the counter, coffee mug in one hand, and a bunch of papers in the other. I look around the cafeteria at all the confused faces looking back at me in disbelief. I can't tell if their surprised because they weren't expecting it or because I probably look more like a homeless person right now than someone with a pHD.

"You're a _doctor_?" Rick asks, trying to piece everything together.

"Well, uh.." I start saying, but I'm still surprised.

"What kind of doctor are you?" Andrea asks.

"I uh, have a PhD in Sustainable Development," I mumble.

"I knew your name sounded familiar," Dr. Jenner continues. "You worked with Dr. Hanson, from the Global Health department here. He told me about you, gave me a copy of your article to read a while back. I found it last night," he holds up the papers, "thought I could discuss it with you."

The shock of being found out has woken me up and I'm sure the asprin will start kicking in soon, so I nod slowly at Jenner, getting up from my seat. I can't really avoid it now. Besides, I've decided not to run away from things anymore, this seems like a good place to start.

"Well then," he says, handing me a cup of coffee, "shall we?" I follow him out of the cafeteria, and into what I guess is his office. It's a corner room with a big glass window, looking out over what I remember him calling Zone 5—the large room with all the white desks. I'm a little annoyed with him to be honest, but he's being friendly enough. This is also the perfect opportunity to learn more about the outbreak.

"I apologize for calling you out in front of your friends. I didn't think you'd have any reason to hide who you are," he says, genuinely, while he take a seat at his desk.

I don't sit down, instead I wonder over to a book shelf and start examining the books. "Who I _was_," I correct him. "PhD's don't mean anything anymore." I look over at him, "I didn't really have any reason for hiding it from them. It was more like I was trying to hide it from myself. Do you mind if I borrow some of these?" I ask, pulling a book off the shelf and reading the back.

He watches me, deep in thought for a moment, then answers, "They're all yours."

"Thanks," I say, pulling a couple more down. I notice some documents on a shelf that look interesting. It looks like they show when communications were lost with other facilities, but it's hard for me to tell.

"You can take those too, if you want," Jenner says, noticing my interest. I pick them up and add them to the stack of books. I finally take my seat across from him, prepared to answer all of his questions.

"Your article, 'An Evaluation of Human Population Growth and Why it Poses a Threat'. It's very interesting. I reread the whole thing last night." He keeps looking at a picture on his desk, but I can't see what it is. "You anticipated that our population would reach it's carrying capacity, at which point we would encounter either war brought on by a lack of resources or a global epidemic."

I watch him carefully, wondering when he's going to ask what's really on his mind. "Yeah, that was the gist of it."

Picking up on my aversion to the topic, he says, "You don't have to talk about this, if you're not comfortable with it." Is that it? I used to be so enthusiastic about my work, am I really not able to talk about it anymore? I suppose that's why I hate it so much now. All that enthusiasm—for nothing. I stare at the back of the picture frame, wondering if that's really why I can't talk now. "My wife," he says, turning around the frame to reveal a picture of a beautiful woman. I look up at him, not sure what to say.

All I manage is, "She's beautiful."

"_Was_ beautiful, "he corrects. "And smart. She used to work here." He looks at me pensively, as if he's deciding if he should tell me more. "You remind me a lot of her. Don't take that in any strange way, of course. From what I read of your work—and what I heard about you from Dr. Hanson—you were very passionate about what you did. She was the same way, up until the second she died." He's talking to me so genuinely, I can't help but feel invasive, like I'm hearing things I'm not supposed to.

"You must've loved her a lot." That's all I can think to say, because now I'm thinking about Mel and how much I loved her. I know she always chastised me for working too hard, but that doesn't necessarily mean she didn't support my career. If I could talk to her now, I imagine she'd yell at me for giving up so easily. She would ask me how much could I have really loved my job before if I abandon it now, when people so desperately need help. I look back at Jenner, "If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them."

The corners of Jenner's mouth turn up just enough for me to notice. "The part about a possible epidemic, that's the part you consulted Dr. Hanson on. You wanted to better understand how they spread so you worked with him, and a couple others."

I nod, "I did research on it and wrote about it, at least a bit. The focus of the article had more to do with resource depletion and how it could start another World War. In my mind, it was a race between the two, which one would hit us first."

"It looks like we won't have to worry about another World War for a while," Jenner half-heartedly jokes.

"Not against the living at least," I add. This conversation might not be as terrible as I thought. He continues asking me about my work, occasionally adding anecdotes of things he worked on in past. I never thought I would have this sort of scientific discussion with anybody ever again, especially not one I enjoyed, but here I am, enjoying myself. I begin to realize Jenner and I have a lot in common. Our views, our way of thinking, our experiences. For the second time, I'm really glad I ended up here.

After our conversation slows, Jenner, looking at the picture again, asks me, "Do you think this is it then? Do you think this is our extinction event?"

I'm slightly taken back when he asks that in such a direct way, but I can't say I've never thought about it. "We've clearly reached a turning point in our population curve, but that doesn't necessarily mean we can't stabilize. It's a common pattern in population logistics, once a population reaches carrying capacity, limiting factors drive it back down."

"Yes," he says dismissively. I'm sure it wasn't anything he hadn't thought of himself. Anyone who took an environmental science course in high school learned about carrying capacity. He asks again, looking me straight in the eyes this time, "But do you think this is it?"

He's honestly starting to scare me, the way he's asking that—as if he has no hope left. I want to give a more reassuring answer, but all I can say is: "There's only one way to find out, isn't there? We wait."

After a moment, he begins, "There's something I need to tell you, about Dr. Hanson—"

A knock at the door stops him. I turn my head to see Shane, leaning against the door frame. "Sorry to interrupt you nerds, but we common folk have got some questions of our own." He doesn't look particularly angry, but his words have a sharp edge to them that surprise me.

Jenner stands up first, "Yes, of course." He gives me a look that I can't quite interpret, but it only lasts an instant. I want to ask him what he was going to say, but I figure another time would be better.

We leave his office and reconvene with the rest of the group. I notice a few people looking at me strange, particularly Daryl. It almost seems like he wants to come over and talk to me but keeps thinking better of it.

Glenn walks over to me and gives me his usual smile. "So does this mean I have to call you doctor now?"

"If you mean because I have a PhD in kicking ass, then yes, you have to call me doctor." He laughs at my response, instantly putting me in a brighter mood.

We all follow him back to Zone 5, he has Vi bring up the lights again, and then head to what seems to be the main computer. We all face a large screen that stretches across the entire wall. "Give me the playback of TS-19."

"Playback of TS-19," the computer voice replies.

A loading box appears on the screen followed by what seems to be MRI scans of a human brain.

"Very few people got to see this, very few."

"Is that a brain?" Carl asks.

"An extraordinary one. Not that it matters in the end," Jenner replies. "Take us in for the E.I.V"

"Enhanced Internal View," Vi states.

Everyone is captivated by the screen as it zooms in, showing all of the inner workings of the brain.

"What are those lights?" Shane asks.

"It's a person's life—experiences, memories. It's everything. Somewhere in all that organic wiring, all those ripples of light, is you. The thing that makes you unique. And human."

"You don't make sense ever?" Daryl asks, not really following.

"Those are synapses," Jenner clarifies, "Electrical impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does, or thinks from the moment of birth, to the moment of death."

"Death? That's what this is? A vigil," Rick says, not liking the direction this has taken.

"Yes," Jenner breathes. "Or rather, the playback of the vigil."

"This person died?" Andrea asks. "Who?"

"Test Subject 19. Someone who was bitten, and infected… and volunteered to have us, record the process. Vi, scan forward to the first event."

"Scanning to first event."

An image of the brain comes up, in which the brain stem and the area around it is black and lifeless, not like the flashing lights of the rest of the brain.

"What is _that_?" Glenn questions.

"It invades the brain like meningitis. The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs." As Jenner speaks, the black area of the brain spreads until the entire brain is black and the patient stops moving. "Then death. Everything you ever were or will be—gone."

Sophia looks up at her mom, "Is that what happened to Jim?"

Carol nods and grabs her hand. "Yes."

I keep staring at the screen, trying not to think of Jim's life leaving him like this. I feel some eyes glance my way at the mention of Jim but I don't look back.

I hear Andrea inhale sharply, most likely thinking of her sister just like I thought of Jim.

"She lost somebody two days ago," Lori explains to Jenner. "Her sister."

"I lost somebody too," Jenner confides to Andrea, "I know how devastating it is." He looks away from her and commands, "Scan forward to the second event."

"Scanning to second event."

"The resurrection times vary wildly. We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard of was eight hours." I think of Jim again, and how lucky I was to have that time with him. He could have changed before I even knew he was at the camp. "In the case of this patient, it was two hours one minute… seven seconds."

Red lights start flashing at the brainstem, flickering on and spreading.

"It restarts the brain?" Lori asks in astonishment.

"No, just the brainstem. Basically it gets them up and moving—"

"But they're not alive?" Rick interjects.

Jenner looks at him and motions to the screen, "You tell me."

"It's nothing like before. Most of that brain is dark."

"Dark, lifeless, dead. The frontal lobe, the neocortex, the human part—that doesn't come back. The _you_ part. Just a shell. Driven by mindless instinct."

Suddenly, something—a bullet—rips through the brain on the screen, severing the brainstem.

"God. What was that?" Carol asks, drawing back.

"He shot his patient in the head. Didn't you?" Andrea accuses.

"Vi, power down the main screen and the work stations."

"Powering down main screen and work stations."

"You have no idea what it is, do you?" Andrea continues.

"It could me microbial, viral, parasitic, fungal—"

"Or the wrath of God," Jacqui interrupts.

"There is that." Jenner replies, his tone reminding me of when he asked me if I thought we're going extinct.

"Somebody must know something," Andrea pries. "Somebody somewhere."

"There are others, right? Other facilities?" Carol asks. I remember the papers I saw earlier.

"There could be some," Jenner comments, with no hope in his voice. "Other's like me."

"But you don't know? How could you not know?" Rick asks aggressively.

"Everything went down. Communications, directives—all of it. I've been in the dark for almost a month."

"So it's not just here," Andrea asserts, "There's nothing left anywhere? Nothing. That's what you're really saying, right?" Jenner doesn't answer and everyone understands what that means. "Jesus."

"Man, I want to get shitfaced drunk again," Daryl says, rubbing his head.

"Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you" Dale says, a bit of sarcasm in his politeness, "and I hate to ask one more question, but… that clock," he points to a large digital clock on the wall, "It's counting down. What happens at zero?"

Jenner hesitates for a moment, "The.. basement generators—they run out of fuel."

"And then?" Rick asks. Jenner starts walking out of the room. "Vi, what happens when the power runs out?"

"When the power runs out, facility wide decontamination will occur."

I don't like the sound of that. And from the looks on everyone's faces, they didn't either. Jenner's already gone though, so Rick gathers up Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog to check out the basement. Everyone else goes back to their rooms. Although 'decontamination' sounds bad, if it's something we should really be concerned with, Jenner would tell us. Instead of joining Rick's group, I decide to find Dr. Hanson's old office. Considering he worked for the Global Health branch of the CDC, I figure there might be some useful information lying around.

I see Daryl walking in front of me so I walk up to him, matching his pace. He's got the bottle of Jack from last night, now almost empty.

He's clearly distraught over what Jenner said, just like everyone else, so I try reassuring him, "What Jenner said, it's bad, but it doesn't change anything , you know. Like he said, communications were cut early on, there could easily still be other facilities—"

"I don't need you explainin' it to me. Jus' cause I ain't no doctor doesn't mean I'm stupid," he snaps. I stop walking and look at him, hurt. So that's how it's going to be? He's going to shut me out, just because I'm a doctor?

"Well, fuck you, Dixon," I say back. He stops walking and turns around, surprised. I don't know why I'm so upset, he's always been like this. I brush passed him, bumping his shoulder on my way. I suppose it's because I thought we were actually friends, but I guess he doesn't feel the same—

I almost fall backwards when something suddenly yanks on my wrist, pulling me back. I turn to see Daryl, his arm outstretched, holding me there. He looks almost frantic.

"Wait, shit, I didn't mean in it," he stammers. He drops my wrist and continues, "I was just talking outta my ass, forget I said that." Speechless, I stare at him for a moment before I feel my cheeks heating up.

"No—I, it's fine." I regain my composure and tell him, "Already forgotten."

He lets out a breath he must've been holding and straightens up. Avoiding eye contact, he nods at me and starts back down the hallway. I watch him go before making my way to Dr. Hanson's office, my mind stuck on the strange occurrence of Daryl apologizing to me.

When I find Dr. Hanson's office, I'm surprised to see it's exactly as I remember it. Everything neatly in order, no sign of any chaos that I expected to have happened. I walk over to his desk and find two envelopes, one on top of the other, both already torn at the top. The first one is a small letter envelope, the second is a large catalog envelope. I open the small one first and pull out a single sheet of paper. I recognize the neatly scrawled cursive as Dr. Hanson's and start reading. It doesn't take long for me to realize what it is. A suicide note.

My body goes cold and it feels like the air in my lungs disappeared, leaving my chest hallow and aching. I keep reading. Even if he's gone, he clearly intended for this note to be read. He apologizes to his family, to his friends, to everyone he worked with. "I let you down, and I'm sorry." I almost can't finish it, but I manage to get to the end. The letter indicates that the content of the bottom file is his last report, describing everything he knows on the nature of the outbreak—which, he admits, is very little. I fold the letter back up and put it in its envelope, my hands shaking. I pick up the second envelope, this time understanding the significance of it. I only pull the papers out half way, examining the contents. Most of the report seems very technical, so I have no hope even trying to understand it in my current state. I sink to the floor, tears pooling in my eyes. For some reason, I had believed he was alive. When I worked with him, he didn't seem like the kind of person who _could _die. Always one step ahead of everyone else. I realize now how childish that was.

I sit there, my back against the wall behind his desk, holding the envelopes to my chest. Everything that's happened up until now seems to be hitting me all over again, opening up old wounds. I'm exhausted all over again, but this time not from a night of partying. I fall asleep, thinking about how, even if I wanted to, there's nowhere left for me to run.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'd still like to hear if anyone's interested in a bonus chapter about Mel's backstory. I won't be offended if you tell me you're not, I just want to know.

Thanks again for all the reviews and follows, they always make my day! I'll update again soon, pinky promise


	10. Chapter 10

56 DAYS EARLIER

Opening the door to my apartment, I curse as my phone starts ringing. Today was exhausting and I don't know how much longer I'll last before I pass out. I'm supposed to be going to New York in a week and I have a lot to prepare before I go. I leave the Costco bags I've been lugging by my door and sit down at my little dining room table. After I saw the news about the new virus, disease, whatever it is, I went out and got some basic supplies I thought might be useful: several bottles of hand sanitizer, sanitary wipes, vitamin C tablets, and a pack of medical masks. There hasn't been much announced yet, but from what I've heard, it's a lot like rabies. Whatever the case, I want to be as careful as possible.

I'm about to ignore my cell but I notice the caller ID. Dr. Hanson? It must be pretty serious if he's calling me.

"Hello?" I answer.

"Yes, Ashlyn? There's something I need to talk to you about; it's not something to take lightly either." He speaks quickly, not waiting for me to respond, "The news, you've heard about the epidemic, I'm sure. Not anything useful of course, but you've heard of it?"

"Yes, I actually just got some hand sanitizer and—"

"Fuck the hand sanitizer, it won't do you any good," he demands.

"Dr. Hanson—" I stammer, shocked. What the hell is wrong with him?

"Ashlyn, listen to me. The situation is much worse than the media has let on. They don't even know. No one knows except the government and they don't want to start a panic. We've already lost India, parts of China. You need more than hand sanitizer. You need food—nonperishables—water, batteries. You'll have to get somewhere safe, away from people. Do you have a gun?"

His panic leaves me shocked. He said so much so quickly, it takes a moment for me to register his question. "A _gun_?"

"Yes, Ashlyn, a gun," he says impatiently.

"I-I have a pistol, but—"

"How much ammo do you have?"

"Just a couple rounds—"

"Get more. Stock up on everything you think is important. Tell your family, your closet friends, to do the same. Then leave, go somewhere isolated. "

There's a pause in the conversation as I try to understand what he's telling me. "We lost India?"

"…Yes. Communications went down so we're not entirely clear what's left but…" He trails off. I can only imagine how bad it must of gotten. "This epidemic, whatever it's caused by, it turns the infected into a mindless animal. They attack everyone in sight and can only be put down by destroying the brain. I'm warning you because I know you'll take my advice seriously." His voice is grave and raspy. I get the feeling I'm not the only person he's tried to warn.

"I will," I confirm. I think about who I need to alert. My sister. She needs to get her family to safety. Who else? I suppose I should give Dad a call, not that he'll ever listen. I think about Mike. I haven't talked to him since I blew off his proposal and told him I'm going to New York for a year. Well, I'm definitely not going to New York now. I'll tell him to get somewhere safe. I can only pray he'll listen. As for Mel, she'll probably humor me and buy some canned food but she won't pull her kids out of school for an indefinite period of time to hide somewhere. I'll have to go up there and get her myself.

"Ashlyn." Dr. Hanson's voice startles me. "You understand what I'm telling you, don't you? "

"… Yes. The CDC, is it secure?"

"Very. Now that communications have been lost in India and in much of China, protecting the CDC here will be of top priority."

"Could I get my sister and her family in there? They're in Atlanta, she has two little boys—"

"No, Ashlyn—I'm sorry. You know I would if I thought it was even slightly plausible, but we're locked up tight. No one gets in. If I leave, the bastards wouldn't even let me back in." His voice is sincere so I accept it.

"I understand… Thank you, for warning me."

"Yes, of course. I'll try to keep in touch, but—" I hear distant voices and beeping in the background. "I'm sorry, I have to go. And Ashlyn," he pauses, "Stay safe."

"You too." He hangs up first, leaving me sitting at my table listening to static. I let the new information sink in. This isn't some swine flu scare. This is entire countries being wiped out. I pick my phone back up and start dialing my sister.

PRESENT

I wake up, wiping the tear trails from my cheeks. The entire room is dark, so I get up carefully. I try flipping on the light switch, but it doesn't do any good. I feel around for my books and add the letter and report to the list of things I need to read over. Still dazed from finding the suicide note and now sore from sleeping against a wall, I stumble out of Dr. Hanson's office.

Distant shouting echoes down the hall, "Hey, man, I'm talking to you!" Daryl? I follow the sound of his voice. I can hear others now too and none of them seem too happy. I start running to where the voices are coming from. I realize they're coming from Zone 5.

When I get there, I see everyone, including Jenner, in the large room. Standing at the entrance, no one seems to notice me.  
"Jenner, what's happening?" Rick demands, approaching Jenner.

Jenner starts heading toward the center of the room, where the computer and clock are, so I follow behind the rest of the group. "The system is dropping all nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second. That started as we approached the 30 minute mark." He signals to the clock, "Right on schedule."

He pauses just outside the circle of white desks, all eyes on him. He hands a bottle of Jack to Daryl, who snatches it out of his hand. He must've taken it from him earlier. He turns his head to look at the frightened group, noticing me, standing in the back with an armful of books and papers.

"It was the French," he says, continuing to the computer.

"What?" Andrea asks, confused.

"They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know. While other people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs until the end. They thought they were close to a solution."

"What happened?" Jacqui asks.

"The same thing that's happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?"

I stare at Jenner, wide eyed. He's completely lost it. There's a group of angry, confused people, and he's being snarky? The group starts following him closer to the computer, Shane yelling at Jenner. Daryl turns around, noticing me for the first time.

"Where you been? C'mon. Gotta find out what the fuck's happening here." I rush over to him, catching up with the rest of the group. We stop at the center of the room. Daryl, finally getting a good look at me, asks, "The hell happened to you?" I just look away, shaking my head, still clutching my books to my chest. We both turn our attention back to the crisis at hand.

"Lori, go back, get our things," Rick commands, panicked, "We're getting out of here, _now!_"

The group scatters, frightened now more than ever, but still listening to Rick. I run back, staying close to Daryl. Alarms start blaring and red lights flash on.

"The hell is that?" Shane yells.

"30 minutes to decontamination," Vi's calm voice announces. What the shit is going on!? A second clock appears on the screen, counting down from 30 minutes.

"Doc, what's going on here!?" Daryl shouts.

Shane starts yelling, getting everybody to start running out again.

"Just before we reach the doors, heavy metal doors spring up from the floor, blocking our exits.

"No," Rick breathes, realizing the situation.

"Did you just lock us in?" Glenn asks, terrified. Everyone turns to Jenner, trying to figure out why he's doing this. "He just locked us in!"

I see Jenner sit down at a computer and start speaking into a webcam, "We hit the 30 minute window. I am recording."

I turn to Daryl, who's pacing frantically around the room, looking more like a wild animal than ever. We make eye contact for a second before he starts running towards Jenner, "You son of a bitch!"

"Shane!" Rick yells, pointing at Daryl. Shane gets the message and rushes to hold Daryl back.

"You locked us in here!"

No, stop! Don't!" Shane catches him, mid-swing, just before he hits Jenner. T-Dog helps Shane hold him back.

"Jenner. Open that door, _now_," Rick demands, in full alpha mode.

"There's no point, everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed." After Daryl's outburst and Rick's commanding tone, Jenner's beginning to look intimidated.

"Well, open the damn things!"

"That's not something I can do. I told you once that front door is closed, it wouldn't open again, you heard me say that," Jenner replies quickly, defensively even.

A panicked Carol turns to me, holding Sophia against her. "Talk to him. Please, he'll listen to you," she pleads.

I stare at her, surprised for a second. _Me_? Why the fuck would he listen to me? Hearing what Carol said, Jacqui and Dale turn to me as well.

"She's right, you have to at least try," Dale tells me.

I nod and go up the steps to the platform and push through the people.

"Jenner," I say, as authoritatively as I can. "Open those doors. Don't bullshit me, I know you can."

He stares back at me, searching my face.

"You know this is the best way." He notices the two envelopes I have in my arms. "You found Dr. Hanson's note. You know how smart he was, you respected him. Well, he made this choice, he knew it was the best way too." I can feel confused eyes on me, but I can't stop staring at Jenner, my mouth open and eyes wide. His words hit me, hard. I feel my stomach flip. I don't stop though. Everything he's saying makes sense in my head, but I can't accept it. Not when it feels this wrong. "You know it too, I can tell. You're like us, you can see things objectively. You can see the inevitable outcome of leaving this room."

I hate how easily he can see through me. He's right, I'm just like him, and Dr. Hanson. But these people aren't, their survivors. They can't die here.

"Frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think," I spit back. "The strong _can _survive, Jenner. That's the way it is, that's the way it's always been."

"I'm sorry Ashlyn, but I can't open those doors," he says. "Whether you believe me or not, it's still better this way."

Before I can tell him to fuck off, Rick speaks up.

"What is? What happens in 28 minutes?"

Jenner turns away from him, back to the computer.

"What happens in 28 minutes!?" He asks again, this time much more aggressively. Shane grabs the back of Jenner's collar yanking him violently from his chair.

"You know what this place is!?" Jenner screams, his voice booming and echoing through the room. "We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don't want getting out! Ever!"

Everyone in the room is completely stunned, myself included. Jenner sits back down, calming down from his outburst, and fixes his coat. "In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out."

"H.I.T.s?" Rick asks.

"Vi, define."

"H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermobaric fuel-air explosives consist of a two stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum air pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired." As the computer explains the explosives, the weight of what's about to happen sinks in. Much of the anger and accusations clear up with the confusion, but the fear takes over. People hold onto their loved ones, trying to stay calm. My legs feel weak and my blood goes cold. I watch as Rick holds his wife and son, Carol holds her daughter. Others share looks with their friends.

"It sets the air on fire," Jenner breathes, as if mystified by the prospect of burning alive.

This isn't happening. This can't be fucking happening. I believed in him. I _trusted_ him. And now what? He's going to fucking _kill_ us?

I watch Lori hugging Carl but what I really see is my sister hugging her little boy, knowing their both going to die. I blink back the images, trying to catch my breath. He can't kill these people, he can't. Not like this. They don't deserve this. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the scared faces but they're burnt into my mind.

"Red!" A familiar voice screams at me. A warm hand holds my face, long fingers reaching to the back of my neck. "Red, look at me!" My eyes open wide. Daryl looks back at me, his stare boring into my thoughts.

"I can't watch these people die," I whisper. My tiny, shaking voice surprises me. I've never been particularly brave, but I always thought I could hide my fears, at least from other people.

He presses his forehead against mine, staring at me so intensely my mind goes completely blank. "Aint' _nobody's_ gonna die. " His voice is sharp and commanding, cutting me out of my panic.

I close my eyes, this time calmly, and nod my head. He drops his hand and moves away from my face. He gives a quick nod, and looks over at the rest of the group. He sees Rick, Shane, and T-Dog bee-line to the door and follows after them. His anger apparent in every movement he makes.

"Open this damn door!" He roars, throwing his empty bottle of Jack against the door.

Shane pulls the axes out of the bags and tosses one to Daryl. They start hacking away at the heavy metal door, to no avail.

"You should've left well enough alone. It would've been so much easier," Jenner says.

"Easier for who?" Lori spits.

"All of you. You know what's out there—A short brutal life and an agonizing death." Jenner looks at Andrea. "Your-your sister. What was her name?"

"Amy."

"Amy. You know what this does. You've seen it," he turns to Rick. "Is that really what you want for your wife and son?"

"I don't want _this_," Rick responds firmly.

"Can't make a dent," Shane breaths, unable to scathe the door.

"Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher," Jenner says, speaking down to him.

Rage wells up in Daryl's eyes as he looks to Jenner. His body coils as he takes two long strides over to him, lifting the axe, "Well your head ain't!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Shane and T-Dog rush Daryl before he can take off Jenner's head.

"You _do _want this," Jenner continues talking to Rick, unphased by Daryl's outburst. "Last night, you said you knew it was just a matter of time before everybody you loved was dead."

Everyone stares at Rick, shocked. "What? What, you really said that?" Shane questions, his tone full of accusations.

"I had to keep hope alive, didn't I?" Rick defends.

"There is no hope. There never was," Jenner counters.

"There's always hope. Maybe it won't be you, maybe not here, but somebody, somewhere—"

"What part of everything's gone do you not understand?" Andrea interrupts.

"Listen to your friend. She gets it. This is what takes us down. This is our extinction event," Jenner responds, sounding lost in his own mind. This is what he talked to me about. "Ashlyn, you understand this better than anyone. Diseases have been wiping out species long before we came along. The world will continue without us."

No longer immobile from fear, all I have left is anger. Anger that this man is using science, using my passion, to justify this madness. "The world has never stopped for anyone—that doesn't mean what you're doing is right. This is _murder,_ Jenner! You're murdering these people!"

"I'm _sparing _these people," He says, unmoved by my accusation. I clench my fists, trying not to punch him right here, right now.

"This isn't right. You can't just keep us here," Carol wails, hugging Sophia to her chest.

"One tiny moment. A millisecond. No pain," Jenner tries comforting her, but clearly doesn't get through.

"My daughter doesn't deserve to die like _this!" _

"Wouldn't it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?"

This time, Shane runs at Jenner, except instead of an axe, he points a shotgun at Jenner's head.

"Shane no!" Rick yells, holding him back.

"Out of the way Rick! Stay out of my way!" He pushes passed Rick and cocks the gun. "Open that door or I'm gonna blow your head off! Do you hear me!?"

"Brother, brother, this is not how you do this. We will never get out of here," Rick tries talking some sense into him.

"Shane, you listen to him," Lori commands.

He glances out of the corner of his eye at Lori, but then turns back to Jenner, more furious than ever. He screams like a mad man, firing the shotgun not at Jenner's head, but at the computers surrounding him until he's out of ammo.

Rick charges him, this time disarming him and knocking him to the ground. Aiming the gun at his head, he hisses, "Are you done now, are you done?"

"Yeah, I guess we all are," Shane replies.

Rick moves away from Shane and turns to Jenner. "I think you're lying."

"What?"

"You're lying. About no hope. If that were true, you would've bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn't. You chose the hard path. Why?"

"It doesn't matter," Jenner replies quickly.

It does matter. It always matters." Seeing that his question affected Jenner, Rick digs deeper. "You stayed when others ran. Why?"

Jenner stands up, chest to chest with Rick, suddenly aggressive. "Not because I wanted to. I made a promise. To her," he motions to the screen. "My wife."

"Test subject 19 was you wife?" Lori realizes, the rest of us speechless. I couldn't even imagine.

"She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no? She was dying. It should've been me on that table. It wouldn't of mattered to anybody. _She_ was a loss to the _world._ Hell, she ran the place. I just worked here. In our field she was an Einstein. Me? I'm just…Edwin Jenner. She could've done something about this. Not me."

Rick keeps pressing him, not slowing down. "Your wife didn't have a choice. You do. That's, that's all we want. A choice, a chance."

"Let us keep tryin' as long as we can," Lori pleads.

Jenner stares at us, our scared, exhausted faces. After a moment, he turns back to rick and tells him, "I told you. topside's locked down, I can't open those." He makes his way to some undamaged computers, pulling out an I.D. card. People lift their faces, suddenly stricken with hope. He scans his card and punches a number into a computer. The doors fly open, electrifying the group with a new energy. People are on their feet in an instant, grabbing their things and running to the door.

"C'mon!" Daryl yells, "Move it, move it!"

Rick is the only one that takes the moment to thank Jenner, who ends up whispering something in his ear. Both men glance over at me before Rick rushes off to join his family.

Even with all the chaos around me, I don't move from my spot. I don't experience the same hope-induced adrenaline as the rest. Instead, I feel my muscles go slack and my lungs exhale a deep breath I didn't realize I was holding. They'll be fine. Relief rushes over me.

I hear Glenn shouting to hurry the group along, "Four minutes left! Hurry up!"

"And you?" Jenner turns to me. "They're safe now, they made their choice. But what do you want?" I stare at the clock, realizing it doesn't scare me, not like it did before. It's no longer counting down to the time these people, these family and friends , are killed—just me. If I chose that at least. "You don't have to stay like this. You've lost someone haven't you?"

Thinking about his words earnestly for the first time, I whisper, "I've lost everyone."

"It's painful isn't it? You can end that, in a second. No pain. An end to sorrow, grief. Regret. Everything."

Jenner's words wash over me like a prayer. It sounds like a beautiful promise. I can still hear Mel's screams, the gun firing, the buzzing silence from the phone after the gunshots. The pain never left in these last two months. There have been times when I almost forgot about it, like that night playing darts, but it's always been here. The idea of being free of that infects my mind. Breaks down the wall of survival instincts that's been keeping me going.

I hear Jacqui yelling over by the doors, telling T-Dog and the rest to go without her. It seems she made her own choice. Andrea too. Dale comes over, desperately trying to convince Andrea to change her mind.

Jenner nods at me, indicating it's time for me to make a choice, before walking away to a computer. I stand alone, staring at my armful of books. Things I would read, if I choose to keep going. For a fleeting moment, I think about how I have no one to beg me not to do this, no one that would miss me. I push that thought away; it's a useless thing to worry about now. It's my own fault, for pushing people away for so long, running from commitment. My sister was the only person who chased after me when I ran and now she's gone—

"RED!" I spin around and see Daryl, sweaty and frantic, standing at the door. "The place is about to fuckin' _blow_! Get your ass movin'!" I instinctively take two running steps toward him. I stop though, realizing what I just did. Realizing the choice I just unconsciously made. "For fuck's sake, c'mon!" Snapping out of my daze, I run to the door—to Daryl. He looks at me like he did before, like he's looking into my mind.

Not wanting him to see anything in there, I bump his shoulder, running down the hall, and say, "We don't have much time!" I hear him running behind me, yelling at me to keep going.

We reach the entrance we came in before just in time to see Rick blow a window up with a grenade. We run through the window, across the property, to the road where our cars are parked. Everyone takes cover in the vehicles. I run to my truck, pulling Daryl with me since his truck is furthest back in the line of cars. No time to get my keys out, I jump the side, into the bed of the truck. Daryl jumps in after me, his body protectively covering mine, just as an enormous, deafening explosion decimates the CDC. The blast seems to shake the entire city, rattling my truck. I curl against Daryl's tense body, waiting for building to fall. It doesn't take long; a moment after it sounds like the destructions over, Daryl moves off of me. Both of us are clearly shaken, realizing how close we came to death.

I look over at the rubble, amazed at how quickly such an impressive structure was leveled. I think of everything in it, the physical things as well as all the memories. But then I remember what I left behind. I imagine it burning up, turning to ashes.

"Hey," Daryl says softly. I turn to him, confused by how gentle he sounds. Wipes a tear from my check I didn't even realize was there. Seeing the surprise on my face he looks away and says, more roughly this time, "What's that about?"

"I… I know it's stupid, but I just remembered I left something really important to me in my room," I say, rubbing the tears out of my eyes.

He gives me a strange look and tells me, "Glenn and T-Dog grabbed your bags when we cleared out the rooms, before we got locked up."

"Oh, really? That's great," I say flatly, trying to sound more relieved than I actually am. My bags are important and all, but I know what I really care about wasn't in a bag, and I doubt they would've noticed it.

"Yeah, picked this up too. Saw it sittin' there when I went back lookin' for ya." Daryl pulls a folded up paper out of his back pocket and hands it to me. I stare at it in shock, hardly believing it's real. I unfold it and see the faces of Mel, Jim, and their two boys, smiling back at me.

I throw my arms around Daryl, burying my face in his neck. "Hey, whoa! Damn girl, it ain't a big deal."

I pull away from him, but I can't help smiling back at him like an idiot. He looks at me like I've lost my mind, but just for this moment, I want to let myself be happy. There are so many things I know I'll be sad about later. I've lost so much in the last couple days, I want to treasure this feeling of finding something I thought was lost forever. Not only that, but I also find myself selfishly enjoying the feeling that Daryl came back for me.

Sorry this took so long! It was really difficult to write for some reason and I'm not sure how I feel about it but it's finally done. I honestly can't believe I got through all of season 1.

As always, thanks to everyone that reviewed!

fluxaay: No offense taken! I'm really glad for the feedback. I'll keep it in mind when I'm trying to figure out what I want to do :)

DarkestAssassin878: I'm glad you like it so far! Their relationship will definitely continue to grow into something more serious. I try to progress it a little each chapter but I think I'm going to start pushing it a bit more now that I'll have some good opportunities season 2.

zephod: I definitely want to talk more about the beginning of the outbreak. I did a little bit this chapter since I could use it to give some kind of background on her relationship with Dr. Hanson. There's still a lot of her backstory that I haven't revealed yet so there's more to come!


	11. Chapter 11

DARYL

Red's smilin' like crazy, real happy I got that picture back for her I suppose. Lookin' at her now, she's completely different than when we were back inside. When I found her still in that computer room after everyone had bolted, aside from Andrea and Jacqui, she was just standin' there, lookin' lost and dazed. When I called out to her though, she came runnin' over right away, like a damn dog. That hesitation before though, that's what I can't get outta my head. She definitely thought about stayin' there, giving up like Jenner.

She looks up from the picture, still all happy but a bit more serious. "This really does mean a lot to me, Daryl. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah," I grumble. She keeps lookin' at me with those big ol' eyes of hers. I can't take it so I get up and jump outta her truck. "You comin' or what?" I hear her scramblin' to pick up all her books and jump out after me. Everyone still looks pretty shaken up over what happened here. I have to admit, seeing the big pile of dirt where the CDC used to be is insane. The reality of losing Jacqui hurts more than anything though. Didn't know her too well, but she seemed sweet as anyone. Looks like people want to move on fast. Don't blame them, that blast probably has everyone walker in the damn city riled up. I go over to my own truck, ready to split. I look over to see Red starin' at some small white envelope, her smile gone. Now her face just looks blank as she gets in her truck.

ASHLYN

Getting back in my truck feels so strange. Even though it's only been one night, so much has happened since I was in it last. Just yesterday I had so much anxiety about joining the group but now I have no doubts. I pull down my sun visor and clip Dr. Hanson's letter and the picture to it, my emotions mixed. Ever since I ran into these people, I haven't been able to think straight; I've been on the brink of losing my mind. I can't be like that anymore. I almost ended everything back in the CDC. If it wasn't for Daryl—I don't know what would've happened.

Up ahead the RV and the rest of the cars start heading off so I follow after. I suppose we'll be going to Fort Benning now that the CDC didn't work out. As we're making our way out of the city, we pass by several walkers. It looks like they're all heading in the direction we came from, until they here our cars of course. Luckily we're moving fast enough for them to not really be a problem. It seems like the explosion really drew their attention though.

We stop off on at an abandoned school yard, getting some supplies. The atmosphere is still heavy after what happened, everyone just seems to be on autopilot. On my way to find a car to siphon for gas, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I spin around and see Glenn, staring at me, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey," he starts. "I'm… I'm glad you're here." He pulls me in for a hug. For a moment, I'm completely stunned, wondering what's gotten into him, but I hug back anyway.

"Glenn, what—"

"When we were leaving the CDC, I didn't see you heading out, Daryl was looking for you too, I thought… I'm glad you're here." He says it all in one breath, his hands up on my shoulders.

I look away, ashamed for a moment. I hate that I made him worry like that. I look back at him, smiling weakly, "Nowhere else I'd rather be." It's so strange, having people worry over me. I never thought that would happen with these people, but I have to admit. It feels nice.

He nods, gives me another quick hug, and helps me siphon some gas.

Before we had out, I gather up my things from the RV, glad they were rescued from the CDC. I notice Daryl's taken the motorcycle out from the bed of his truck. Looks like he'll be riding that instead. Makes sense, considering how much harder it's getting to find gas.

I'm about to hop in my own truck when Andrea walks over. "Mind if I ride with you? The RV's getting a little cramped." It's obvious what's really going on—she's trying to get away from Dale. I didn't see everything that happened between them at the CDC, but it's pretty clear Dale somehow forced her out of her decision to stay behind.

I nod, "Sure. Wouldn't mind having some company." I clear out the passenger seat and we drive off behind Rick's car.

We drive in a comfortable silence for some time before Andrea notices the picture and letter. "That picture, it's your sister isn't it?"

I grip the steering wheel tighter but otherwise stay calm, not letting my emotions take over again. "Yeah. Jim and their boys, too. They visited me in Florida last year. Took them fishing. Their oldest boy, Kenny, loved it." I smile, remembering the trip. "The younger one, Ashton; he clung to my sister the whole time."

"They look really happy," she replies earnestly. She seems deep in thought for a moment, but asks, "You and Daryl, what's going on with you two?"

My head spins to face her, surprised at her question. Going on? Nothing's going on. What's she talking about? She must see the confusion on my face because she continues, "He just seems different around you. And I know you two stayed up late drinking together last night…" Her voice trails off, the implications obvious.

"Wha—No! We didn't—we just talked. And played darts. Glenn and T-Dog were there too." I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks. Does everyone think we-?

Andrea laughs, clearly amused at my reaction. "Okay, okay, I believe you. Still, there's nothing going on between you two?"

I open my mouth, ready to tell her no, but then I think about it. Of course we're not going out or anything. He's saved my life several times but I'm not naïve enough to think that means he cares about me in any special way. That's just what he does, he saves people. I remember how I ran to him without even a second thought back at the CDC. And how happy I was when he told me he came back to look for me. I bite my lip, remembering him on top of me in my truck—

I catch Andrea's sly smile and realize I haven't answered her yet. "No, no we're just friends. He's saved me on a couple occasions. We're not—we're just friends." Wow. That didn't even sound remotely convincing. From the look on Andrea's face, I can tell she's thinking the same thing.

"Well, if you say so." Yeah, there's no way she believes me. I don't even know if I believe myself.

She interrupts my new, strange thoughts of Daryl, suddenly serious. "You almost stayed back there too. Do you believe what Jenner said? About there being no hope left for humanity?"

She really gets to the point, huh? I sigh, exacerbated at all her questions. "Humanity has survived epidemics before. I don't see any reason to start jumping to conclusions about this one." I hope she'll leave it at that, but she's still curious.

"You knew your sister was dead before you found Jim. How have you kept going for so long, all on your own?"

"Before my sister died, she was upset with me. She told me to stop running away. That's what I'm trying to do."

I can tell Andrea is confused by my vague answer, but she seems to accept it. We drive along the interstate in silence, Atlanta in our rearview mirror.

Eventually it seems the caravan runs into a roadblock so we get out of the truck and check out what's happening.

The group gathers around the RV. Apparently they're having problems with the radiator hose. Daryl joins the group and immediately starts looking through the trunk of an abandoned car. I freeze when I see him, thinking about my conversation with Andrea, and tune the rest of the group out. He's so different from all the men I've dated, almost the complete opposite really. He's not exactly a suit and tie kind of guy, and definitely not someone who spends their weekends ass kissing at company picnics. I don't find myself surprised when I realize none of that matters to me.

I gasp and turn away when I notice he's caught me staring at him, his eyebrow raised. Fuck, fuck, fuck. That was probably the worst way to react. I put my attention back to the group, trying to suppress my blush.

It seems everyone with the exception of Lori seems to agree we should take this opportunity to scavenge for extra supplies, so that's what I do. I find a couple things that might come in handy. Some double A batteries, a box of granola bars, and a knife. My crowbar works well when I have room to swing it around, but not for those really close calls. I strap the knife to my thigh and head back to my truck.

I pull out my map and journal, logging in the approximate number of walkers I saw today and the direction they were headed. It's strange we haven't seen any in a while. Examining the arrows on my map, I feel like there's some sort of unaccounted for mass of walkers. I should let Rick know, I don't think we should hang around here any longer than we have to.

I go to find him and see he's looking through the scope on his rifle. I turn around and see a walker come out from behind a car, then another. A few more round the corner before I see a whole herd of them coming this way. Shit.

I duck behind a car and run over to Rick. He nods at me, knowing I saw them too, and we run off to warn the others. He gets to Lori, Carol, and the kids and I see Shane's already pulled Glenn under a truck. I keep going, looking for anyone else. I see T-Dog, his arm cut wide open, already aware of the walkers.

"T-Dog," I hiss, waving him to come over. I pull off my hoodie and tie it tightly around his arm, trying to put pressure on the cut. I see a walker approaching us so I grab my new knife, but Daryl runs over and stabs the back of its' head. He puts a finger to his lips and pulls T-Dog down, throwing a corpse over him. Picking up on his plan, I lay on the ground and roll a body on top of me. Daryl pulls one out of a car and does the same. Fighting the urge to vomit from the stench, I lay still as I watch the walkers shuffle by us. When they all pass, I throw the body off me. Daryl's up too and already pulling the body off of T-Dog. Screaming startles all of us. We pull T-Dog to his feet and start running back to the rest of the group.

"Sophia!" Carol's wailing makes us all run faster. "The walkers are after my baby!" Lori holds Carol back as she cries, looking into the woods.

"Oh fuck no," Daryl curses as we reach the others. He turns to me, "You take care of T-Dog."

"I can come too-" I start, wanting to go after Sophia.

"No," he commands, still running, "get T-Dog cleaned up. Go!"

I nod, knowing he's right. I rush T-Dog into the RV only to find Andrea covered in blood, a screwdriver in her hand and a dropped walker on the floor. She looks up at me, then at T-Dog, her eyes wide. We do our best to clean up the cut and wrap it, but it's so deep, I don't know if we did any good.

"Anyone else hurt?" Andrea asks.

"Not hurt, missing. Two walkers chased Sophia into the woods." I sit by the window, hoping to see the rescue party returning with the girl. I never really talked to her, just that one time at the lake. Still, I feel like losing her would hurt more than I even understand right now.

"Oh my god," Andrea says, clearly worried.

After we clean the walker brains out of the RV, I only manage to wait two minutes before running to my truck and getting my crowbar. I change out of my now dirty dress and into pants, a tank top and hiking boots. I can't just sit here knowing Sophia's out there. Daryl, Rick, Shane, and Glenn are all out looking for her but the more eyes the better.

I run into Andrea on my way into the woods, "Where are you headed?"

"I'm looking for Sophia. Can't just sit here," I say.

She nods and I head into the woods.

DARYL

This little girl's got to be out here somewhere. Couldn't of gotten very far. Rick and I come across a walker so I take it out with my cross bow.

"Sophia!" I shout for the hundredth time. Damn, where is she?

Rick notices blood on the walker's mouth and finds flesh in its teeth. Wanting to be sure it didn't eat Sophia, we cut the bastard open. Luckily, all we find is what's left of the woodchuck it ate for lunch.

We keep at it, looking for the girl another couple hours, but the sun's stating to set.

"We won't make any progress this way," Rick says. "No visibility. Not safe either."

"I agree. We'll have to pick it back up in the mornin'." I'm reluctant to go back, but he's right. Won't find her like this.

We circle back to the group. Once we make it outta the trees, I see Carol standin' there, waitin' for us. This ain't gonna be easy.

"You didn't find her?" She asks, her voice shaking.

"Her trail went cold," Rick says. "We'll pick it up again first light."

"You can't leave my daughter out there to find her way in the woods."

"Huntin' in the darks no good. We'd just be trippin' over ourselves. More people get lost."

"But she's twelve, she can't be out there on her own. You didn't find anything?" her voice gets higher, more urgent.

"I know this is hard, but I'm asking you not to panic. We know she was out there."

Rick tries calming her down. She breaks down though, throwing blame on Rick for what happened. He tries to defend himself, Shane speaks up too. She keeps cryin' though. I can tell Rick's not takin' it too well.

By now, everyone else has come over, looking for news on Sophia. I search the group, not seein' the familiar bright red hair.

"Hey, Ashlyn isn't with you?" Andrea speaks up before I can ask if anyone's seen her.

"With us? Why would she be with us?" Rick asks.

"She went to help look for Sophia. I thought she would've met up with you."

"We never saw her." The group goes quiet, realizing what that means.

Son of a bitch. What's that girl thinkin'? I told her to stay put and she runs off into the woods alone? Fuck. "You all just let her go off? By herself?" I hiss.

"I thought she was in her truck!" Glenn says defensively.

"Now we got two people lost in the woods?" Shane asks annoyed. "She can find her way back on her own."

"God dammit," I spit, turning back into the woods. I swear, this girl gets in more trouble than I can handle.

I start picking up my pace, trying to spot any red through the trees. The fuck am I doin' out here? We just called off the search for Sophia. I guess I didn't think too much about it. But seriously, what's she thinking?

I hear a twig snap, not too far off. Must be a walker. I lift my crossbow, and walk cautiously over to the noise. I hear faint rustling behind a large tree. Sounds too big to be an animal. I slowly walk around the tree, ready to catch it by surprise when something jumps out from behind it. Just before I pull the trigger, I catch a flash of red.

Where I was expecting the walker to be, I see Red standin' there, crowbar raised over her head, eyes wide.

Both of us exhale, lowing our weapons.

"Fucking Christ, Daryl! I almost smashed your head in! What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?"

"What am I doing? I'm looking for your stupid ass!" I yell back at her. "What're you doing?"

She looks taken back for a second before she responds, "I'm looking for Sophia! I don' know if you've noticed but she's kind of missing," her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I was heading back though, since it's going to be dark soon."

"What if you got lost too?" I keep yelling, "Do you even know what you're doin' out here? Last thing we need is another person to find!"

She looks surprised but her face softens a bit. "Look, Daryl, I didn't mean to freak anybody out, but yes, I do know what I'm doing, okay? I was on my own for two months and took care of myself just fine."

She doesn't get it, does she? I step closer to her, getting in her face, "Well, you ain't on your own anymore! You can't just run off and do whatever dumb shit you want!" She's backed up against the tree now, avoiding eye contact. I keep screaming at her though. "Do you know how worried I was when I didn't see you—" Shit, what am I saying?

She turns her eyes up at me, her eyebrows raised. I back away and storm off, back towards the interstate. "You just gonna stand there all night?" I call.

I don't hear her footsteps, but I don't give a fuck anymore. If she wants to stay out here and play rescue in the dark, fine. I won't be comin' back for her a second time.

After a moment though, I hear her come running after me. Then, suddenly, there's something soft and warm on my cheek. "What the fu—" I spin my head around, but she's already five steps ahead of me. My hand goes to my cheek and I stop walking. Did she just…?

"You just gonna stand there all night?" She calls back to me.

ASHLYN

What the fuck did I just do? I hear Daryl grumbling something that sounds like "Crazy bitch" followed by his footsteps. I slow down but stay a good 5 yards ahead. I didn't plan on walking ahead of him but after I kissed his cheek, I could feel my face start burning up and I don't need him seeing that. I keep telling myself a kiss on the cheek isn't a big deal or anything. I just surprised myself—and probably him—that's all. This must be because Andrea got in my head today, talking about Daryl. I keep replaying what he said over and over again in my head though. Was he really that worried about me? I try not to let myself get too obsessed with the idea. Maybe he just thinks I'm really incompetent and can't take care of myself. He got so worked up though, maybe he really was worried.

I climb the slope leading up to the road and step over the guard rail. It looks like everyone's getting their stuff together to call it a night. That's a good idea, we'll need to be well rested for the early search tomorrow. I set myself up in my truck, trying to fall asleep. There are so many thoughts running through my mind though. The deaths of Jacqui and Jenner. Sophia lost in the woods all alone. Daryl. The last few days play back in my head, every moment with him. Restless, I bury my face in my pillow. God, is this really happening?

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'm definitely going to move their relationship along because of things I have planned for season 3 stuff. As always, thanks for the reviews and follows!

Also, in case anyone missed it, season 4 trailer is up and it looks fucking awesome.

sPaRkzZz: I'm so glad you like it! Daryl and Glenn are definitely my favorite characters in the series, Michonne a really close third. I am hoping to start giving other characters a bigger role in the story though.


	12. Chapter 12

The sun pours in through my truck's windows, stirring me from my sleep. Normally I would cover the windows, but not today. The earlier we get up and start looking for Sophia the better. I pull my boots on, strap on my gun and knife, and grab my crowbar. I stretch as I step out of my truck. Damn I miss that couch at the CDC.

"You know you don't gotta sleep in a truck, dontcha?" I jump at the sound of Daryl's voice. The little kiss yesterday flashes in my mind and I immediately want to hide in my truck. No, it's ok. It wasn't a big deal. Just a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm used to it already, I guess." The RV probably has some space in it, but I don't want to crowd anyone. I stretch again and a loud crack comes from my back.

"Your spine doesn't seem to used to it," he retorts, walking toward the RV. A blush creeps its way onto my face as I watch him go. I mentally slap myself for staring at his arms but I don't look away. After talking to Andrea, I've been way too conscious of him. Christ, it's way too early for this. Speaking of which, I notice we're the only ones up this early. Although I'm sure Carol's awake too, she probably never fell asleep.

I walk after Daryl, not really sure what else to do before the others wake up. I want to head out now, but I don't think going out on my own is the best idea after last night. It looks like Daryl's getting ready to start the search, leaning over a car, staring at a map.

"So what's the plan?" I ask, remembering Rick made Daryl in charge of all this.

"The plan is to find that little girl and get her back to her mom," Daryl says with so much conviction, I really believe he's going to do it. He goes back to looking at the map, tracing paths with his finger.

"Are we splitting into groups or staying together?" He looks at me sideways.

"Why? Want to run off on your own again?" I'm surprised when I don't hear an edge to his voice.

To be honest, I would much rather go solo, but I don't feel like that's the best thing to say right now. "Just wondering, Captain."

He snorts at the title, "I ain't no fuckin' captain."

"Sir, yes, sir!" I respond, army saluting him.

He stares back at me for a moment, his eyebrows quirked. He turns back to the map, but I swear I can see the corners of his mouth twitch up, just barely. Did he almost just smile? Not like a smirk, but a real smile? I stare at him, my mouth open, not sure if I imagined it or not.

"What's goin' on over here?" Shane's voice approaches from behind us. I snap out of my amazement and turn to see him. Does he think the same thing Andrea thought? That there's something going on between Daryl and I? I look at his face, but can't figure it out.

"Figurin' out a gameplan," Daryl replies. "Anyone else up yet?"

"Yeah, just rallied the troops. They'll be ready to go soon." His head tilts to the side, looking at me. I don't like the way he does it though. He's not blatantly checking me out or anything, but he puffs out his chest, like an alpha dog or something. "You're not plannin' on slippin' away again, are you? Don't need more girls lost in the woods."

I do my best to suppress an eye roll. "Don't worry. This girl can find her way in the woods just fine."

He scoffs, seeming mostly amused but a bit annoyed too. "Just tryin' to look out for you is all." Daryl looks between us but doesn't say anything. I walk away, not interested in dealing with that much testosterone right now.

I do my best to help Lori prepare breakfast, trying to take some of the strain off Carol. She seems to like the work though, keeps her busy.

After we eat, the group convenes at the car Daryl was at. Rick rolls out a sheath filled with various hatchet like weapons.

"Everybody takes a weapon," he commands.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need," Andrea retorts. She seems annoyed—I wonder if something happened. "What about the guns?"

"We've been over that," Shane speaks up from behind Rick. "Daryl, Rick, and I are carrying. Can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles."

"It's not the trees I'm worried about."

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, a herd happens to be walking by. See, then it's game over for all of us. So you need to get over it."

Whoa, whoa, whoa. No one is taking my gun from me. I take a quiet step back, hoping nobody realizes my gun's on me. Andrea looks to me, probably for support. I understand how she feels. Shane has a point, but it sounds more like an excuse to take their guns. She catches sight of my gun; however, and all my sympathy for her flies out the door. "What about Ashlyn, huh? This isn't about gun safety, is it? It's about everyone afraid I'm going to blow my brains out."

Everyone's eyes go to me, then to my hip. So much for that.

"Now hold up," Shane says, trying to calm her down. "Didn't know she was packing." He nods his head to the side, indicating for me to give up my gun. I stare back at him confused. Is he serious? The whole group looks at me, waiting to see what I'll do.

"No, you hold on. I've had this gun for years. I took all the classes. I know how to use it."

"Rules are rules. Hand it over."

Shocked, I look to the group, but no one speaks up. Being on my own for so long, it feels strange having to play by someone else's rules. Every part of me wants to tell Shane to fuck off but the last thing I want to do is start something. Not when we should be looking for Sophia. Swallowing my anger, I unholster my gun. I ignore Shane's outstretched hand and say "I'll lock it up in my truck, thanks." Shane holds his hands up defensively, noticing my tone.

Recognizing the conflict is over, Daryl starts explaining his plan. "The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side. Chances are she'll be by the creek. It's her only landmark." Everything he says sounds well thought out—I'm not surprised—he seemed to take this very seriously from the beginning.

"Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other." Rick concludes. He instructs Dale to stay behind to keep working on the repairing the RV. T-Dog is also staying behind, on account of his wound. Carl convinces his parents to let him come, eager to help find Sophia.

I head back to my truck, ignoring the weapons Rick offered, and lock up my gun. I don't like not having it with me, but this beats handing it over to Shane.

"Hey." Speak of the devil. Shane walks over to me, but I keep myself busy getting my backpack together. "Hey," he says again, louder this time. I look over to acknowledge him but keep doing what I'm doing. He sighs but keeps going. "Look, I'm sure you're good with your gun, but I did what I had to do to keep the peace. Don't need people thinkin' I'm playing favorites."

I'm surprised for a moment at his sort-of-apology, but I nod at him and say, "I understand. I just don't want to be treated as a liability. I can handle myself just fine and the sooner people realize that the better."

He chuckles under his breath and leans against my truck with a smirk on his face. "You're a lot of talk, we'll see how you well you handle them walkers soon enough, Dr. Turner."

I scrunch up my face at 'Doctor' as I slam my truck door. "Ugh, no, never call me that."

"Whatever you say, Doc." He lightly hits my shoulder and walks back to the group. He still isn't my favorite person here, but maybe he isn't as much of a shithead as I pegged him for. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

DARYL

Looks like we're all about set to head out. I'm doing a mental head count when I notice Red's not here. Or Shane. I walk around the RV to see if she's by her truck. Sure enough, there she is. I'd be relieved if Shane wasn't there too, leaning up against her truck, smirkin' about somethin'. The fuck's he want with her? I shake it off—this ain't the time to be thinking about that. Or what happened last night. Not with Sophia out there.

When they join the rest of us, we start the search. Everyone falls in line behind me, Shane covering the rear. Red somewhere towards the back with Glenn.

After a while of trackin', I spot a tent. I creep up on it, real quiet, to check it out. Rick gets Carol to call out for Sophia but no response. Pulling the tent flap back, I catch a whiff of something foul. I walk in, knife ready. All I find is some real nasty bastard that blew his brains all over the tent. I grab the gun, tucking it in the back of my pants, and step out.

"It ain't her." Carol's face falls at the news.

"What's in there?" Lori asks.

"Some guy. Did what Jenner said, opted out." I look at Red for any kind of reaction. "Ain't that what he called it?" It's barely noticeable but I see her body stiffen, just for a second. Her face goes blank though, so I can't tell what she's thinkin'. I keep remembering her standing in the CDC, not moving as everyone's runnin' for their lives.

Suddenly, a noise rings through the forest. Everyone's heads perk up at the sound. The fuck is that? _Church bells_? We all run in the direction the sound's coming from.

Sure enough we find a church. We run through a graveyard, toward the chapel. Rick signals to be quiet as he pushes the doors open. Four geeks sitting in the pews turn around and get up. Rick and I move to take 'em out and Glenn hands me a hatchet. I catch Shane gesture for Red to go in too, and she nods back, stepping into the church. The fuck is he playin' at? Taking her gun then sending her to take out walkers?

I don't get what he's doin' but I go after one of the walkers, burying the hatchet in its skull. I watch Red as she approaches a big geek in overalls and takes a powerful swing at its head. It's definitely a one hit K.O but she smashes it one more time for good measure. Shane watches her closely, like he's seeing how well fights, but there's more to it than that.

Rick starts calling for Sophia, but Shane stops him, saying it's the wrong church—got no steeple, no bell. He's interrupted though, by loud ringing. We all run outside to check it out. Glenn finds an electrical box outside and flips the switch off, stopping the noise.

"A timer. It's on a timer," I say.

Exhausted, the group splits up, but stays near the church. I watch as Shane puts his hand on Red's shoulder and says, "Good job in there." She doesn't look particularly flattered, but she nods her head and walks off, to the back of the church. I'm not really sure why, but I follow after her.

ASHLYN

I check out the back of church, looking for any sign of Sophia. Nothing sticks out though. Maybe if I had Daryl's tracking skills, I'd have a better idea of what I'm looking for.

"Not the prayin' type, are ya?" Daryl's voice calls from behind me.

I turn around, wandering what he's doing here. "Not really." I suppose that's where the others are, some of them at least. "We should keep moving. Doesn't look like she's here."

He nods but it looks like something's bothering him so I ask, "What's wrong? Besides the dead rising and all that." Ever since what happened at the CDC, I've been worried Daryl knows what I almost did back there—"opt out". After he found the dead guy in the tent today, he looked right at me when he said it was a suicide.

He hesitates for a moment, but then asks, "You trying to impress Shane or something?"

Not the question I was expecting, I'm thrown off guard for a moment. I suppose he talking about me killing the walker back in the church. "It's not just Shane. I need the whole group to understand I can take care of myself." He looks at me, as if unconvinced, so I continue. "I want people to be able to rely on me instead of worry about me."

Nothing else to say, I start heading back around the church. He walks passed me and without turning around, says, "You've got a helluva swing at least." I can't help but grin. A smile and compliment from Daryl Dixon, all in one day? Never thought that would happen.

The search party meets up under a big tree in front of the chapel. Shane walks over, Rick in his wake, and says "Y'all gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you're in charge." I look at him confused. Since when did this become his mission? We all know Daryl's in charge, he has been since the beginning. "Me and Rick, we're just gonna hang back, search this area for another hour or so, just to be thorough."

Daryl doesn't seem too bothered by it, he just asks, "You're splitting us up. You sure?"

"Yeah, we'll catch up with you."

Carl wants to stay with his dad though and surprisingly Lori lets him. Before the group splits, Rick offers his gun to Lori, but she says she doesn't want to leave him unarmed. Overhearing this, Daryl pulls out a small revolver and gives it to her, saying he picked up a spare. Andrea looks pissed, and I understand why. The gun rule was stupid in the first place though and now that the group's splitting up, Daryl would be the only one armed with a gun.

We go our separate ways, with everyone except Rick, Shane, and Carl circling back to the creek.

The heat is intense and aside from Daryl, known of us really know what we're doing. With all the effort going into this with no results, everyone seems a bit tense. After a couple hours, Carol starts to break down. "So this is it? This is the whole plan?"

Everyone stops walking and turns to her as she sits down on a log. Leaning against a tree, Daryl tells her, "I guess the plan is to whittle us down into smaller and smaller groups."

"Carrying knives and pointy sticks," Andrea seethes. She turns on Lori, "I see you have a gun."

"Why, you want it?" Lori responds, without hesitation. "Here, take it. I'm sick of the looks you're giving me." She extends the gun to Andrea and after a moment, she takes it. "All of you." Lori sits down on the log, obviously annoyed. She turns to Carol, "Honey, I can't imagine what you're going through and I would do anything to stop it. But you have got to stop blaming Rick. It is in your face every time you look at him. When Sophia ran he didn't hesitate, did he? Not for a second. I don't know that any of us would've gone after her the way he did. Or made the hard decisions that he had to make or that anybody could have done it any differently." She looks up to the rest of us, "Anybody?" We all remain silent, half shocked at her outburst, half in agreement with what she's saying. "Y'all look to him and then blame him when he's not perfect. If you think you can do this without him, go ahead. Nobody is stopping you."

Andrea hands Lori back the gun, and says, "We should keep moving." Just like that, the pressure that was building between us dies down. I can't help but respect Lori in a whole new way. Calling out a group of people on their bullshit takes serious balls.

I follow the others, still thinking about all the things Lori said. Although I doubt no one else would've tried saving Sophia, she did make a lot of good points. Everyone puts so much pressure on Rick, it's amazing he hasn't lost it yet. Amazing that he keeps trying to do the right thing.

We continue walking for some time when a gunshot echoes through the trees, stopping us all in our tracks. Lori seems the most concerned, however, considering her husband and boy are out there. "What was that?" She asks, panicked.

"You know what it was. Just gotta keep moving," Daryl tells her.

She nods and we keep going, but it only take a couple minutes for her to stop again, worried.

"We can't go running after gunshots Lori. I know you're worried, but our only option right now is to keep going." I try convincing her to let it be, but it doesn't sink in.

"It was a gunshot," she says, concern all over her face.

"We all heard it," Daryl says.

"Why one? Why just one gunshot?"

It is a little strange, I'll give her that. It doesn't change anything though.

"Maybe they put down a walker."

"Please don't patronize me, you know Rick wouldn't risk a gunshot to put down one walker. Or Shane, they do it quietly."

"Shouldn't they of caught up to us by now?" Carol asks.

"Red's right. There's nothing we can do about it anyway. Can't run around these woods chasing echoes." Daryl says.

"So what do we do?" Lori demands, not getting the picture.

"Same as we've been. Beat the bust for Sophia, work our way back to the highway."

"I'm sure they'll hook up with us back at the RV," Andrea tries to reassure her.

We start picking up the trail again, but Andrea says to Carol, "I'm sorry for what you're going through. I know how you feel."

"I suppose you do. Thank you." She turns to the rest of us, her voice trembling. "The thought of her out here by herself… It's the not knowing that's killing me. I keep hoping and praying she doesn't end up like Amy—" A pained look passes over Andrea's face at the mention of her sister. Carol realizes her mistake and grabs Andrea's hands. "Oh God. That's the worst thing I ever said."

Shaking it off, Andrea tells her, "We're all hoping and praying with you, for what it's worth."

"I'll tell you what it's worth—not a damn thing." Daryl asserts, walking up to the two women. Both shocked at his words. It takes me off guard too. "It's a waste of time all this hoping and praying. Cause we're gonna locate that little girl and she's gonna be just _fine._" He turns back around, leading the way again. "Am I the only one zen around here? Good lord."

It may not of been the most conventional pep talk, but it did the trick. We continue on but with a new found energy. It's amazing, seeing Daryl like this. His personality seemed so harsh when I first met him, I never expected this kind of warmth from him.

Several hours pass and despite our vigor, we haven't found any sign of Sophia. With the sun about to set, we decide to call it, promising Carol an early start tomorrow.

The hike back to the highway wears us out fast, exhausted from our day of searching. I know we must be getting close though, maybe just ten more minutes of walking. It's so difficult picturing Sophia out here, all alone. Would she be hiding somewhere? Or wandering around trying to find her way back? I push the other possibilities out of my mind, not prepared to face them.

My thoughts are interrupted by screams up ahead. Andrea. She must've been walking ahead of us. We all run toward the noise. I see a large walker staggering forward, rotting arms outstretched, lumbering over a fallen Andrea. I grab my knife and rush toward it, prepared to take it down, when I hear a loud galloping sound coming at me from my left. I catch a glimpse of a horse rushing toward me and throw myself out of its path. The loud cracking of a skull resonates through the woods and I see the walker fall to the ground.

I start getting back on my feet when large hands grab my arms and pull me up. "You alright?" Daryl huffs in my ear, breathing heavy from the sprint over. I nod, sheathing my knife.

"Lori? Lori Grimes?" A female voice with a southern drawl calls. I turn to see a girl, probably in her twenties, riding horseback with a baseball bat.

"I'm Lori."

"Rick sent me, you've gotta come now," the women speaks urgently, not wasting anytime.

"What?" Lori asks, still in shock.

"There's been an accident. Carl's been shot. He's still alive but you've got to come now." Lori freezes, mouth hanging open. "Rick needs you, just come."

Lori throws off her backpack, getting on the horse. "Whoa whoa whoa, we don't know this girl!" Daryl calls, stepping forward. "You can't get on that horse!"

I grab his arm, holding him back. "She knows their names Daryl!"

Ignoring him, the woman continues speaking rapidly, "Rick said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl? Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox. The name's Greene. Hyah!" She snaps the reins and the horse takes off with Lori on back.

I drop my hands from Daryl's arm. We all stare after the horse, absorbing what just happened. Carl's been _shot_?

This chapter is really late, sorry. Season 2 is so slow, it's hard figuring out where I want to cut corners so it's not too boring. Next chapter they'll be at the farm though!

Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad everyone seemed to like the kiss at the end I'm going to try fitting more things like that in while they're at the farm to move along their relationship


	13. Chapter 13

We end up back at the interstate after walking in silence. Exhausted, we all agree to take a break before figuring out what happens next. I go back to my truck, log all the stats from today into my journal, and lay across the seats. Sophia's shot, T-Dog's condition is getting worse, and now Carl is fucking shot. Having so many more people to worry about is really taking a toll on my stamina. I stare at the picture on my sun visor, remembering the times I worried about my old family. It has to be different this time. I can't lose everyone I care about twice.

The agreed upon fifteen minute break passes so I pull myself up and slip out of my truck. I see Dale, T-Dog, Andrea, and Daryl at the RV and Glenn and Carol heading over as well. When I reach the RV, people are already fussing over what we should do.

"I won't do it," Carol asserts, "We can't just leave."

"Carol, the group is split. We're scattered and weak," Dale argues.

"What if she comes back and we're not here?" She must see the disbelief on everyone's faces because she adds, "It could happen."

"If Sophia found her way back and we were gone, that would be awful," Andrea agrees. She's right. I don't see any reason we all have to go to this mystery farm anyway. Carl's survival is out of our hands, but we can still be here for Sophia.

Everyone looks to Daryl for his input. "Okay. We gotta plan for this. I say tomorrow morning is soon enough to pull up stakes. Give us a chance to rig a big sign. Leave her some supplies. I'll hold here tonight. Stay with the RV." As he says this, I see Carol's face relax immediately. He really does know how to put people at ease, another surprising quality of his.

"If the RV is staying, I am too," Dale adds.

"Thank you. Both of you," Carol says.

Daryl looks to Andrea. "I'm in."

He turns to me, although I'm sure he already knows my answer. "I've got nowhere else to be."

"Well, if you're all staying then I'm—"

Glenn gets cut off by Dale, "Not you Glenn, you're going. Take Carol's Cherokee."

"Me? Why is it always me?"

"We have to find this farm, reconnect with our people, and see what's going on. But most important, you have to get T-Dog there. This is not an option. That cut has gone from bad to worse. He has a very serious blood infection." Daryl looks behind his shoulder and walks to his motorcycle, taking some towels off it and getting something from a bag. "Get him to that farm. See if they have any antibiotics. Because if not, T-Dog will die. No joke."

Daryl returns throwing the towels to Dale, "Keep your oily rags off my brother's motorcycle." He opens up a large plastic bag filled with pill bottles. "Why'd you wait til now to say anything? Got my brother's stash." He starts sorting through the bottles. "Crystal, X—don't need that—got some kickass painkillers." He tosses a bottle to Glenn and goes back to the bag, finding what he was looking for. "Oxycycline. Not the generic stuff neither. It's first class." He gives the bottle to Dale. "Merle got the clap on occasion." I smile—who knew Merle Dixon's STD medication would save a man's life one day?

Even with the medication, we all agree it'd still be best to get T-Dog to the farm, just to be safe. Before they leave, I wait by Carol's car to see Glenn off.

"Thanks for doing this," I tell him. "I know you wanted to stay here, but they ask you to do these things because they trust you."

He still looks disappointed, with his hands in his pockets and head low, and says, "I know. Don't miss me too much, okay?"

I laugh, giving him a hug, "Yeah yeah, I'll be fine."

He moves to get in the car, but before he does, he tells me, "Stay safe," then closes the door.

I wave to him as he leaves, then head to the RV to help with dinner.

DARYL

We finish making the big sign to leave in case Sophia finds her way back as well as sort out what supplies to leave. After dinner, everyone goes their separate ways.

As for me, I start looking over the map, figuring out where this farm we're going to is. I'm not sure what to think of the whole situation. Some chick rides in on a horse and we all follow her like lost puppies? Fuck, we don't know these people. Besides, we haven't found Sophia yet. We can't keep getting distracted by things when she's still out there. I find the road she told us—Fairburn—on the map, trace it with my finger. It's not too far away, that's good at least. Maybe this won't be such a bad thing. If we have something nice going on here, people might not be too eager to move on.

I hear footsteps coming up behind me. I turn around and see Red. "Hey," she calls softly. "Planning the trip for tomorrow?" Looking around my shoulder at the map, she leans in close. I can feel her hair tickling my arm.

"Uh, yeah," I clear my throat, "Fairburn is close. Shouldn't take long at all."

"Hmmm. That's good." She moves away from the map and leans against a nearby car. "So what do you think? Of going to this farm?"

"Won't know til we get there. Could be good to get off the interstate—have somewhere to set up camp."

She nods, then after a moment, she looks right at me and says, "You're doing a great job—leading the search and everything."

I look back to the map, "Tell me that after we've found her."

"It's true though. Everyone listens to what you have to say. You even made Carol feel better, telling her we'll make a sign and leave supplies."

"It ain't a big deal or nothin." She makes it sound like I'm doing so much, but all I've done is wander through the forest. I ain't no leader.

I look up and see her smiling at me. "Just take the compliment." She pushes herself off the car. "I'm going to get some sleep. You should too."

I nod as she walks past me, to her truck. My eyes stay her back as she goes. I want to tell her she should sleep in the RV, instead of that cramped truck of hers, but I can't.

The things she said—about people wanting to hear what I have to say—keep playing over and over in my head. How much can she really mean that? She probably knows a bunch of smart ass doctors and shit. How impressive can walking through the fuckin' woods be?

I look back at the map, trying to think of what route to take next time we look for the girl. She's gotta be out there somewhere.

After I have everything figured out, I call it a night and head into the RV. I nod at Andrea, who's playin' with her gun, and lay down on the floor. I try to fall asleep for a while, but Carol's sniffling and whimpering keep me up. Not that it's real loud or nothin' but knowing why she's cryin' doesn't help.

I get up quietly and find my crossbow, slinging it over my shoulder. "I need my clip now," I whisper. Andrea passes it to me and I tell her, "I'm gonna walk the road. Look for the girl." The sniffling stops for a moment and I see Carol looking over from her bed. I nod before leaving the RV, heading to the trees.

"I'm coming too," Andrea says, catching up to me.

I look up at Dale, watching from the RV, and give him a heads up, "I'm going for a walk. Shine some light in the forest. If she's out there, give her something to look at."

"You think that's a good idea right now?"

"Dale." Andrea says, annoyed. She doesn't even look back at him or stop walking. I nod to him, knowing there's no stopping her, and follow her into the forest.

We walk side by side in silence, until she asks, "You really think we're going to find Sophia?"

The fuck is with everyone? It's only been two days. I shine the light on her face, "You got that look on your face, same as everybody else. The hell's wrong with you people? We just started lookin'."

"Well, do you?" I remember what Red told me, about people listening to me. Maybe she was right after all.

"It ain't the mountains of Tibet. It's Georgia. She could be holed up in a farmhouse somewhere. People get lost and survive. It happens all the time."

"She's only twelve."

"Hell, I was younger than her and I got lost. Nine days in the woods, eatin' berries, wiping my ass with poison oak."

"They found you?" She asks it naturally, assuming people were lookin' for me. There wasn't any "they", no search party.

"My old man was off on a bender with some waitress. Merle was doing another stint in juvie. Didn't even know I was gone. I made my way back though. Went straight into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. No worse for wear. Except my ass itched somethin' awful."

She starts chuckling so I turn to her. "I'm sorry," she tries to stop giggling. "I'm sorry, that is a terrible story." It doesn't work though—she starts laughing again and I join in.

"Only difference is, Sophia's got people lookin' for her. I call that an advantage." That seems to answer her question, although I doubt she's any more hopeful than before.

There's silence for a while until she asks her next question: "Ashlyn—what do you think of her?"

I stop walking for a second, caught off guard. What's she wondering about that for? She looks back at me so I start walking. "She's a good person, strong, I suppose. Why?"

"Just thought you two seemed pretty close. And the way you ran after her, when I told you she went looking for Sophia by herself. Never saw you look that worried."

I remember what I said to her, that night I looked for her—'Do you know how worried I was when I didn't see you?' I guess I can't really deny anything. I remember her, backed against the tree, looking up at me. I remember her kissing my cheek. Feeling Andrea's eyes on me, I look away, pointing my flashlight in the trees. "Just didn't want another person gettin' lost out here is all."

"Guess it was just my imagination," she says, sounding amused. Damn, I go lookin' for one person and she thinks I'm sweet on her? This ain't a fuckin' game.

"Keep your eyes open, don't need a walker sneaking up on you again," I grumble.

We walk on for a while, sweeping the forest with our flashlights, when I hear rustling up ahead. I signal for her to be quiet and we sneak toward the sound. There's a small campsite in a clearing around where the noise is coming from. I hear something up in a tree so I shine my light on it.

I smell it before I see it. A walker—hanging from a branch—snarls at us and swings its arms tryin' to grab us. "What the hell?" I step closer and find a sign on the tree. "'Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit.' Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head. Turned himself into a big, swinging piece of bait. And a mess." Shining the light over his legs, it looks like there's nothing left but bone and some ligaments. I hear Andrea gagging. "You alright?" Don't blame her, it's a nasty thing to be lookin' at.

"Trying not to puke."

"Go ahead if you gotta."

"No, I'm fine. Let's—let's just talk about something else for a moment. How'd you learn to shoot?"

"Gotta eat. That's one thing these walkers and us have in common." The bastard desperately claws at us. "I guess it's the closest he's been to food since he turned. Hanging up there like a big piñata. The other geeks came and ate the flesh off his legs."

I hear Andrea throw up, "Ugh, I thought we were changing the subject."

"Call that payback for laughing about my itchy ass."

"There wasn't a lot that came up."

"Huh. Let's head back." No point lookin' at this son of a bitch all night.

"Wait, aren't you gonna…" She points her flashlight on the geek.

"No. He ain't hurting nobody. Ain't gonna waste an arrow either. He made his choice, opted out. Let him hang."

I turn to leave but she walks closer to the walker. It's obvious what she's thinking about. I'm sure it's been on here mind ever since she lost Amy. I walk over to her and ask, "You want to live now or not?" She turns around, surprised I asked. "It's just a question."

"An answer for an arrow. Fair?" I nod. "I don't know if I want to live. Or if I have to or if it's just a habit."

I lift up my crossbow, "That's not much of an answer." My arrow hits its target, right through the walker's eye. "Waste of an arrow."

I think of Red again. After Andrea saying I worry about her too much, it pisses me off, but I have to ask anyway. "Red—I mean—Ashlyn, what do you think her answer would be?" The image of her standing in the CDC with all those books in her arms, in that flower dress, like she was lost while everyone was running for their lives, has been haunting me ever since.

Andrea doesn't give me the smug I-knew-it face I was expecting. Instead, she answers me seriously, "I wondered about her too. She lost her sister, just like I did. And after everything Jenner said to her, about them being the same, I thought it might be true. But it's like you said—she's strong. She told me that she didn't want to run away anymore. I'm not entirely sure what she meant by that… but I don't think she's giving up anytime soon."

Did she really say that? That she didn't want to run away anymore? The words suddenly remind me of the day we met her. When we asked for a ride back to camp, she freaked out and bolted, not trusting us. I yelled something at her—_Fine then! Run away!_

I remember what she said to me earlier today, behind the church. She said she wanted the group to rely on her more. Maybe she really does want to live. What could've changed that though? I know she almost stayed with Jenner. Something must've changed her mind.

I look back at Andrea. "I don't think so either."

ASHLYN

I can't sleep. It's pretty late but I've been tossing and turning all night—as much as I can in this tiny space at least. Frustrated, I sit up and find my flashlight and Dr. Hanson's final report, the one that was left with his suicide note. It's about time I started reading this I suppose. I start flipping through the pages, just to get a better sense of what's in here. I don't think I'll be able to make much sense of this. The writing is highly technical and some of the graphs look completely foreign to me. However, I start picking up on some of the information as I struggle through it. Nothing so far has surprised me, but the charts showing the rate of infection spread in various cities is certainly interesting. Even the places that tried to quarantine outbreaks early on only delayed the same outcome.

Eventually I find myself getting drowsy so I pack away the papers and turn off my flashlight. Just as I'm about to lie down, however, I see two lights approaching the RV. Grabbing my gun, I begin to quietly open my truck door, ready to ambush whoever is sneaking around our site. Before I get out though, I notice Dale climbing down from his position on top the RV to greet them.

When the two people get close enough, I realize it's Daryl and Andrea. Relief washes over me; the camp is safe. It doesn't take long for me to start wondering where Daryl and Andrea went thought. What were they doing, walking around at night? I remember the conversation I had with Andrea, when she asked me if there was anything going on between Daryl and I. Suddenly everything she asked has a different meaning to me. Was she asking me that because there was something going on between _them_? I just realize I've only been with the group for a short amount of time and I have no idea how long they've known each other. For all I know, they could've been hooking up for months now—

Whoa, what am I thinking? This isn't some MTV drama, this is the fucking zombie apocalypse. I immediately hate myself for being so nosy. Besides, it's not like Daryl and I have something going on. I lay down and burry my face in my pillow. That's right. It has nothing to do with me. I keep telling myself that but for some reason, I still have a sick feeling in my stomach.

Okay, I know this is a really short chapter and it took forever to come out but I've been really busy moving back in for college! I already have most of the next chapter written though—it was originally part of this one, but I liked ending it here better. The latest the next chapter will be up is Saturday night but I'm trying to finish it before then. Hope you liked this one!

Thanks for all the reviews! And Surfix, I'm definitely planning on finishing this one so don't worry! I've written way too much of this to not see it through haha


	14. Chapter 14

After a restless night, I wake up completely exhausted. I wasn't able to stop thinking about Daryl and Andrea all night, but that ends now. There's too much to worry about without adding these feelings to the list.

At least that's what I tell myself when I wake up. When I see Daryl by his motorcycle, my mind wanders right back to what kind of relationship he has with Andrea. I feel so stupid, like a jealous girlfriend or something. It's ridiculous, I don't have any kind of romantic relationship with him, so where are all these feelings coming from?

As we pack up camp, I do my best to avoid Daryl and focus on all the things I need to do. After we're all ready, we drive off in the direction of this farm the woman told us about. It doesn't take long to find it. Daryl was right, Fairburn road is close and once we reach that, the farm is only a couple miles down.

It seems the sound of the motorcycle drew the group out; when we drive up, there's a welcoming party waiting for us. The reunion is tense at first, but once Lori tells us Carl's going to be ok, we let ourselves enjoy the moment.

Despite the general cheerful mood, Shane seems distracted, like his mind is in another place. His physical appearance isn't helping either. His head is shaved and he's wearing overalls that are four sizes too big for him. He looks like an entirely different person.

It doesn't take long to figure out what's got him so wound up either. Apparently, he made a run into a FEMA shelter down the road with a man named Otis—the same man that accidentally shot Carl—in order to find medical supplies to save Carl. The place was overrun though, and Otis didn't make it back.

Once we all get settled in, the residents of the farm hold a funeral service for Otis. The old man who seems to be the owner of the farm, Hershel, reads a passage from the bible as others take turns placing large stones in a pile. The people from are group stand by awkwardly, but still respectively, while he speaks. Just when it seems to be over though, he asks Shane to tell what happened in Otis's last moments.

He declines at first, but an older woman persists, close to tears, "You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please, I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning."

Reluctant at first, Shane tells the story of how Otis sacrificed himself to save Carl, providing cover for Shane only to get overwhelmed by walkers. As he speaks, Shane gradually loses himself in the story. The look on his face and the way his eyes dart around as he talks sends shivers down my spine. I can't help but feel like he's lying. He wouldn't be this traumatized if that's all that happened. Not that someone dying isn't a terrible thing, it's just sadly not that uncommon in this world. I notice Daryl watching him closely as well, probably just as suspicious as I am.

Neither of us say anything though. Now wouldn't be the time to call him out, not to mention the lack of any evidence. The group splits up when the service ends. Rick, Shane, Hershel, Daryl, Andrea, and I convene at the family's truck to plan the search for today. The woman that was on the horse, Maggie, brings over a map of the area, showing terrain and everything.

"This is perfect, we can finally get this thing organized," Shane says, much calmer than he was before.

"We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams," Rick begins, only to be cut short by Hershel.

"Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out. And your ankle," he turns to Shane, "push it now and you'll be laid up a month. No good to anybody."

"Guess it's just me," Daryl says. "I'm gonna head back to the creek, work my way back from there."

"Daryl's not the only one fit to look for her," I speak up, my eyes on Rick.

Shane shares a look with Rick before replying, "Now I don't think that's the best idea—"

"The more eyes we have on the forest the better. I know you're worried I can't handle a gun, but I didn't survive two months on my own shooting every walker I saw. I can handle myself with just my crowbar and knife." I feel like Rick wants to trust me, but Shane's stare is holding him back.

"The forest ain't the same as Atlanta, completely different environment. You'll be out of your element," Shane argues.

Alright, now he's just talking out of his ass. I can feel myself getting angry, but I try to contain it. "What do you know? I grew up running through a forest—"

"Go with Daryl. At least for today. It'll be safer for both of you that way," Rick says, turning to Daryl. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

I'm about to protest, but Daryl just shrugs and says, "She's right. Another pair of eyes wouldn't hurt." So much for avoiding Daryl.

We agree to get whatever we need then meet back up in ten minutes by the RV. I get there early, since all I needed to grab were my weapons.

Glenn's there too, sitting at a picnic table, so I sit down across from him. "I heard you're going out to look for Sophia," he says. "Be careful."

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I reply, only half paying attention. The other half of my mind is trying to think of how I'll get through today without thinking of Daryl and Andrea the whole time. It's so stupid, but I just wish I knew if something was going on.

"Well, I should get going. Dale needed my help with something." Glenn starts to get up, but I suddenly think of the most obvious plan. Honestly, I don't know why I didn't just ask him earlier.

"Glenn! Uh, I was wondering. Do you know if something's going on with Daryl and Andrea?" It isn't until after I ask do I realize what a weird question it is to ask. It's only Glenn though, so I suppose it's alright.

"Daryl and Andrea?" He looks at me strange. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"Oh, just wondering." He still seems suspicious, so I add, "I saw them together last night and thought it might be something."

"Well, Daryl never really talked to people until recently, so I doubt it," he shrugs. "Catch you later."

He leaves, going inside the RV. Part of me feels relieved at what he said, but the paranoid part of me still isn't entirely convinced. I let out a sigh, not ready to face a day of being with Daryl.

"What're you so bummed about?"

I jump and turn around, only to see Daryl staring back, his eyebrow cocked. He's got his crossbow thrown over his shoulder and I can't help but stare at his biceps for a moment.

"Nothing," I mutter. "Let's get going."

We head out, walking through the forest towards the creek. I follow behind Daryl as he silently looks for tracks, something I'd never be able to make sense of. We come across two walkers, both of which Daryl takes down with his crossbow. I'm really beginning to feel useless, not contributing anything to the search, but I'm determined to at least stay alert for any signs of Sophia or approaching walkers.

"So…" I start, no longer being able to stand the silence, "how long have you been with the group?" I'm genuinely curious but I'd be lying if I said it didn't have anything to do with my recent worries about Daryl and Andrea.

He gives me a sideways glance before answering. "A bit over a month." That long? Considering how isolated he was at first, I wasn't expecting it to be over a couple weeks. I try not to let it bother me. It still doesn't mean anything and I know I'm acting like 16 year old but I keep thinking about it.

Apparently I'm not hiding it well enough because Daryl asks, "What's wrong with you?" I look up at him surprised, so he elaborates. "You've been actin' strange since this morning."

There's no way in hell I'm telling him I've been trying to deal with the possibility he's involved with someone else so instead I just say, "I've been thinking about Shane. He hasn't been the same. His story was weird too."

He doesn't seem to buy my excuse, but he doesn't call me out on it. "Doesn't take a PhD to figure that out. Got any evidence?"

I can tell he doesn't disagree with me; he just understands the same thing I thought before. You can't accuse someone without proof.

"No, just goosebumps. When he was telling everyone what happened—he looked out of his mind. Like he was dealing with some deeper internal struggle."

"Doesn't mean nothing without proof to back it up."

"Yeah, I know. Just been thinking about it." The silence settles back in, but I still have so much on my mind. Without even thinking, I blurt out a painfully stupid question I immediately want to take back. "Do you think Andrea's pretty?" Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck. Why the fuck did I have to ask that. Daryl looks at me, completely thrown back. Shit, I have to say something to make it less weird. "Uh, it's just, she has the same hair as my sister, not quite as curly though. I was always jealous of my sister's hair."

That seems to do the trick, although he still seems a bit flustered. "Hell, what're you asking me for?"

I try acting natural, laughing lightly at his reaction. "Yeah. Just thinking out loud I suppose."

We're both quiet for a moment, but then, without looking back, he adds, "Nothin' wrong with red hair. Suits you."

My eyes go wide and blood rushes to my cheeks. It's not like I've never had a guy compliment me before, but that's the thing about Daryl Dixon—you never expect it from him.

Just as I'm regaining my composure, the forest opens up into a clearing with what looks like an abandoned house in the middle. Daryl signals for me to be quiet and raises his crossbow as we approach it. He kicks open the door and we make our way inside, prepared for any walkers that might be around.

The house is almost completely empty, with bare walls and almost no furniture. We pass through what used to be the dining room. Noticing what looks like a recently opened can of sardines, I nudge Daryl and point at it. He picks up the can and sniffs it, jerking his head back. Must be pretty fresh. Maybe someone was here recently.

A faint noise comes from the adjacent room, putting both of us on high alert. I ready my crowbar and we both follow the sound to a small closet. Daryl taps the door open to reveal some canned food and some blankets and pillows set up as a makeshift bed. We share a look, both thinking the same thing. She might've been here. She could be close.

Just as we turn to leave the room, a loud banging noise resounds throughout the house. In an instant, Daryl's body covers mine, my back pressed against the wall. I gasp, more surprised at his closeness than the noise. I grasp my crowbar tighter, ready to face whatever's out there, but Daryl already has his crossbow in one arm pointing to the hallway and the other hand holding my forearm. Another bang echoes from the same direction, prompting Daryl to move toward it. His hand slips down to my wrist, gently pulling me closely behind him.

We make it back to the empty hallway only to see the wind swing the front door, banging it against the door frame.

We both visibly relax, lowering our weapons. Daryl turns to face me, checking that I'm alright, both of us still breathing heavily. I find myself looking up at him, realizing how close we're standing, our breaths mixing together. He seems to realize it the same time I do because he drops my wrist and takes a step back, opening up the space between us. I look away first, hoping my red cheeks just look like the result of the heat.

"C'mon," he says, already walking out the door, "She could be close."

Hope you like it! I'm trying to put more Ashlyn/Daryl interaction in each chapter so I'll probably be summarizing parts that aren't really important to their plot and skipping other parts entirely.

Next chapter is going to be the Chupacabra episode which is my favorite! I've been looking forward to writing it since the beginning so it should be good!

Thanks for all the reviews last week, I'm always excited to hear from you guys!


	15. Chapter 15

Spending the day with Daryl, even if we were just searching the woods, had exactly the effect on me I thought it would. All I've been thinking about since we got back to the farm has been our closeness in the abandoned house. How he listens to me and makes me feel strong. How he's saved my life, not only from walkers, but from myself.

Back at the farm, everyone seems busy with one thing or another. With nothing else to do to distract myself from thinking about Daryl, I decide to help out with dinner. While I'm bringing some silverware to the fire pit from the RV, I notice Rick watching me from across the campsite. Not in a weird way or anything, but like he wants to talk to me about something. This goes on for a while, he even starts walking over at one point, but gets intercepted by Carl, asking him about something. After that, he seems either too busy to talk to me, or like he's thought better of it. I shrug it off, figuring Rick has a lot going on and if he has something to ask me, he will eventually.

During dinner, I take me usual seat next to Glenn who seems to be in a particularly good mood.

"Hey Ashlyn! How did the search with Daryl go? I heard you guys found a house Sophia might've been in." He's always been a cheerful guy, but right now, Glenn can't seem to stop smiling.

I raise an eyebrow at him as he fidgets in his seat, eating his rice, but answer him anyway. I tell him about tracking with Daryl, finding the house, and finding the closet with the blanket. I leave out the walker scare that turned out to literally just be the wind, blushing only thinking about it. When I look back at him though, I can tell he's barely paying attention. "Glenn? Glenn!"

"Huh?" His attention snaps back from whatever day dream he was having. "Oh- Uh, sorry. I'm a little out of it tonight."

"It's fine. Help me with these dishes." The two of us clear everyone's dirty plates and head to the RV to clean them. I wonder what's going on with him? He just went out on a supply run today, I don't see why he'd be so weird… Oh god. Remembering who he went with, I smirk back at him.

"So how was your supply run today? You get to know the farmer's daughter while you two were out?" He nearly drops the plate he's cleaning and spins his head to me, wide eyed.

I'm practically grinning now, but he regains his composure the best he can. "Oh, yeah. Maggie's really, uh… cool."

"That's good." He seems to relax after that, thinking I haven't figured out what happened. Part of me can't believe he actually scored with the farmer's daughter, it's almost clichéd even. It can't be the best idea, seeing as her father basically decides our fate, but I can't help be happy for him.

With the dishes finished, I start heading out of the RV, but before I leave I turn back to him with a huge grin and say, "If you ever need someone to talk to about your girl problems, you know where to find me."

His face is absolute priceless, realizing that I know what happened.

Leaving the RV thinking about Glenn and Maggie, it doesn't take long for me to start thinking about Daryl again, and what kind of relationship I have with him. I don't know what happened in the past, what kind of relationships he could've had with other people, but I admit, I can't stop wondering how he feels about me. He isn't exactly as easy to read as Glenn, unfortunately.

Attempting to get my mind off Daryl—not an easy task—I head back to my truck. I've still got most of Dr. Hanson's report to sort through, so after I log information into my journal, I take another crack at understanding it.

DARYL

Even though its early, looks like everyone is up and ready to start the search. It's about damn time we really got this thing going. Red, T-Dog, Andrea, and Shane are all by Rick's car, looking at the map rolled out on the hood. Even from here, I can see dark circles around Red's eyes and her hair messier than usual. Must not of slept well last night. I start to head over, but before I get there, Rick comes up to me.

"Daryl, I have something to ask you, about Ashlyn. I want her out on her own grid. Do you think she can handle it?"

"What're you asking me for? I ain't her babysitter."

"I need a second opinion. I don't want to send her out there if I'm not sure she'll be coming back."

"Why don't you ask her? She ain't some kid who needs her decisions made for her."

Rick drops his head, thinking about what I said for a moment before looking back up. "You're right. I'll talk to her about it." He starts walking away, in the direction of the car.

"For the record," I add, stopping him, "she can handle herself just fine."

Rick nods and continues toward the car. He approaches Red and leads her aside, away from the others. He must've asked her if she wanted her own grid, because her eyes light up and I can tell she's trying not to look too eager. He tells her something else though, and suddenly she looks embarrassed, blushing and scratching the back of her head. The fuck did he tell her? I start heading over, ready to start looking for Sophia again. Before I get within earshot of them, I see Rick put his hand on Red's shoulder and lean in close, saying something to her. Red nods her head, but looks confused as they walk back to the group. What was all that about?

I stand next to Red by the car and start looking over the map. The ridge up to the north looks like the best spot, with a good view of the area. It's pretty far, but if I can borrow one of the horses, I should be able to reach it in no time. Feeling Red's eyes on me, I lean back from the map, and raise an eyebrow at her.

"What're you starin' at?"

She looks surprised she was caught but defends herself anyway, "I wasn't staring, you were blocking my view of the map." I smirk, knowing that's a lie. She glares back, but then opens her mouth like she's has something to say. Rick's voice stops her though, as he starts the little meeting. She closes her mouth and turns her attention to Rick, although she seems to have other things on her mind.

"Alright, everyone's getting new search grids today. If she made it as far as the farmhouse Daryl and Ashlyn found, she might have gone further east than we've been so far."

"I'd like to help," one of the people who live on the farm, Jimmy I think, comes over. "I know the area pretty well and stuff."

"Hershel's okay with this?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he uh, said I should ask you."

"Alright then, thanks."

"Nothin' about what Daryl and Ashlyn found screams Sophia to me," Shane calls from the passenger seat of the car. Anyone could've been holed up in that farmhouse." I just barely catch Red rollin' her eyes at him.

"Anybody includes Sophia right?" Andrea defends.

"Whoever slept in those covers was no bigger than yay high," I say, gesturing about four and half feet with my hand.

"Good lead."

"Maybe we'll pick up her trail again," Rick says.

"No 'maybe' about it. I'm gonna borrow a horse, head up to this ridge right here. Get a bird's eye view of the whole grid. If she's up there, I'll spot her."

"Good idea," T-Dog adds, "Maybe you'll see your Chupacabra up there too."

"Chupacabra?" Red asks, confused.

"You never heard this?" Dale asks, bringing the gun bag to the car. "First night in camp, Daryl tells us the whole thing reminds him of the time he went squirrel hunting and saw el Chupacabra."

I hear the farm brat scoff, so I glare at him and ask, "What're you brayin' at, jackass?"

"So you believe in a bloodsucking dog?" Rick asks, not buying it.

"You believe in dead people walkin' around?" I ask. That shuts everyone right up.

Jimmy reaches for the rifle Dale's unpacked, but Rick stops him, "Hey, hey. Ever fire one before?"

"If I'm goin' out I want one."

"People in hell want slurppies," I throw my crossbow over my shoulder and head out. Fucking kid, gonna shoot someone in the head.

I find the stables and pick a horse, throwing the saddle on its back. I don't have much horseback riding experience but how difficult could it be? I get on and ride out toward the ridge.

I follow the path, making quick progress on the horse. A quarry opens up to my left with a shallow lake below. Catching sight of something unnatural looking on a large branch in the lake, I stop the horse and get down.

It's a steep walk down to the bottom, but it's worth it. I find the object that caught my eye—a familiar looking doll. I look around for any other signs someone was here, but find nothing.

"Sophia!" No response. I tuck the doll into my back pocket and climb back up to the path, getting on the horse. I stay on the path, trying to keep the horse calm every time a bird flies by. Damn thing, afraid of its own shadow.

After finding the doll, I'm more alert, keepin' my eyes down in the quarry. Suddenly, the horse rears back, twisting it's body and throwing its head. "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa!"

I pull down on the reins but the horse rears back again, throwing me off its back. I roll down the side of the quarry. Branches cut into me as I crash through the brush and down the rocks, landing in the murky water.

"Sonofabitch!" Pain shoots down my side. I feel around and find one of my arrows piercing my side, just below my rib cage. "Ah, ugh." I lay in the water for a moment, my head throbbing. I'm losing blood. _Shit_.

I pull myself up, another jolt of pain shoots through me. "_Fuck_!" Staggering out of the water, I clutch my side, feeling the warm blood run through my fingers.

I practically collapse in the mud, but I get up. I pull out my knife and cut off my sleeves, tying them together. I wrap the fabric around my torso and knot it around the arrow to hold it in place. I find a sturdy stick to help me stand, prepared to climb the cliff. Before I can even start though, I hear rustling coming from behind me. _You can't be fucking serious._ But I know what it is—I can hear them wheezing. My hand goes to my back, reaching for my crossbow, but it's not there. _Fucking hell!_ I stumble back into the water, probing the bottom with the stick, looking for my crossbow.

It doesn't take long for me to find it, and luckily the dumb bastards haven't found me yet. I keep my crossbow on my back and take a shot at climbing back up. Everything I grab and everywhere I step is slippery, but I keep going. About half way up, I reach for a branch, but suddenly I can't hold myself up. My feet slip out from under me and I'm falling. I land hard on my side, the ground knocking the air out of my lungs. I roll over, my head still throbbing and the last of my energy leaving my body. No… I have to get up. I push myself up on my arms but they give in and I hit the ground again. The trees around me start to blur together and everything goes black.

…

Light pours in through the trees. I barely make out someone walking towards me, leaning down by my head.

"Why dontcha pull that arrow out, dummy. You could bind your wound better."

"Merle," I breathe.

"Hn," he smiles. "What's goin' on here? Takin' a siesta or somethin'?"

"A shitty day bro," I respond, barely able to keep my eyes open. I try real hard though—it feels like he could disappear in an instant.

"Would ya like me to get you a pillow? Maybe rub your feet?"

"s… Screw you."

He laughs dryly. "You're the one screwed from the looks of it. All them years I spent tryin' to make a man outta you. And this is what I get? Look at you. Lyin' in the dirt like a used rubber. You gonna die out here, little brotha. And for what?"

I don't even think before I answer. "Carol. She lost her little girl."

"So you got a thing for little girls now?"

"Shut up," I breath, getting more agitated as he talks.

"No, I guess you got a thing for red heads, dontcha? I can't say I blame you. A real man woulda tapped that already."

"Fuck off."

"Hit a nerve, did I? Why? Cause you know you're never gonna get in between those legs of hers—"

"I said fuck off," I spit.

He laughs again. "I figure somethin' must be distractin' you, since you ain't lookin' for ol'Merle no more."

"I tried like hell to find you, bro."

"Like hell you did. You split, man. Lit out first chance you got."

"You lit out. All you had to do was wait." I try to focus on him, but everything is spinning around me. "We were back for you. Rick and I. We did right by you."

"This the same Rick that cuffed me to the rooftop in the first place? Forced me to cut off my own hand," his voice is heavier and darker than before. I try to see his face, but my vision slips down to his hand. "That's who we're talkin' about here? You his bitch now?"

"I ain't nobody's bitch."

"You're a joke is what ya are. Playin' errand boy to a buncha pansy-asses, niggers, and democrats," he says each word with disgust. "Hmph. You're nothin' but a freak to them. Redneck trash. That's all you are. You gotta be mad if you think you some pretty little doctor girl is ever gonna give two shits 'bout you. Yeah, she's laughin' at you behind your back—they all are. You know that don't you? Well I got a bit of news for you, son. One of these days, they're gonna scrape you off their heels like you was dog shit."

I try to deny it, say something back, but the words stick in my throat. All I manage to do is roll my head back and forth.

"Hey." Merle puts his hand down on my chest, getting my attention back. He's staring at me more intently now. "They ain't your kin. Your blood. Hell, you had any damn nuts in that sack of yourn, you'd go back there and shoot your pal Rick in the face for me." He pauses then grabs my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. His voice drops even lower when he talks again, "Now you listen to me. Ain't nobody's ever gonna care about you, cept me, little brother. Ain't nobody ever will." He pats my chest, "C'mon. Git up on your feet, before I have to kick your teeth in."

He stands up and start kicking at me feet. "Let's go," he demands. "C'mon," he shakes my legs. He keeps shakin' me, until I manage to look down at my feet. But he's not there anymore. Instead there's an even uglier mother fucker, biting at my shoe, snarling at me.

"Ahhh!" I scoot backwards as fast as I can, kicking at the walker's head. I scramble for my crossbow but it's on me again in seconds. I throw two quick punches to its head and roll over on top of it, holding its head back. It throws me off of it, giving me a chance to grab my walking stick. It lunges at me, but I block and get on top of it again. I drive the stick into its skull, three times for good measure. Another geek lumbers toward me from across the lake. I roll onto my side, and grip the arrow. My jaw clenched, I give the arrow a strong pull, ripping it outta me. I grab my crossbow and struggle to load the arrow as the walker picks up speed. Just before the walker's on me, I lean back and fire the arrow right between its eyes.

Completely out of breath and out of energy, I lay down in the mud. Merle's words spin around in my head as I close my eyes.

ASHLYN

Where the _fuck_ is Daryl? It's been over an hour since I returned from my grid, expecting to be the last one back. He definitely should be here by now. I glance out the kitchen window again, as I continue to scrub the same pan I've been scrubbing for the last five minutes.

"Ashlyn … Ashlyn!" Lori's voice snaps me out of my daze, making me drop the pan. I stare back at her, still startled. "You don't have to worry so much. I'm sure he'll be back soon." I blush, realizing she's seen right through me. I pick the pan back up, set it in the strainer, and grab a dirty plate to clean.

"He's been gone a while. I know the route he was going on. I could go see if I can find him—"

"We don't need another person to worry about," Carol interrupts. "And if anyone can handle themselves in the woods, its Daryl Dixon."

Everything she says makes sense to me, but I can't fully except it. Everybody needs help once in a while, no matter how good they are. I look back out the window, still hoping to see him riding up on a horse. As I do it though, I hear Lori sigh. She's watching me, one hand on her hip, and shaking her head.

"Why don't you find something to keep your mind occupied? We don't need you in here washing dishes if your this distracted." She's right, but I still feel bad leaving the work to them. Even though Carol and Lori volunteered to make everyone dinner, it still seems like a lot of work for two people.

"Are you sure? I can focus—"

"It's alright," Lori smiles. "Besides, you were out all day. Leave this to us and stop worrying."

"Thanks," I smile back at both of them and leave the house.

Now how am I supposed to distract myself? I remember the conversation I had earlier with Rick.

"_Ashlyn, I'd like to ask you something."_

"_Huh? Yeah, sure." Today was going to be a long day. I barely got any sleep last night, thanks to these stupid thoughts about Daryl._

"_I was thinking you could go out on your own today. I wasn't sure about it, but it's not my decision to make—it's yours. What do you say?"_

_Wait, is this for real? My own grid? "Uh, yeah, yes. I'll do it." I don't want to look too excited, but at the same time I can't stop grinning. _

_Smiling back, Rick adds, "Daryl seems to think highly of you. That's not an honor many people get." _

_Shocked at the sudden mention of Daryl, I feel my cheeks start to heat up and scratch the back of my head laughing nervously, "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing that special." _

_Rick looks at me, amused, but his expression becomes serious in a moment. Putting his hand on my shoulder, he leans in a bit and tells me, in a hushed voice, "There's something I need to speak with you about. Jenner told me something at the CDC, something he told me to ask you about. We don't have time to discuss it now, but tonight." I look at him, not sure what he could be talking about. Something Jenner said? I nod back at him, doubting I'll actually have any answers for him._

What could it possibly be about? Since I have nothing better to do, this should be a good time to find out. I think about how I never did get to thank Daryl for what he said to Rick. He knew how badly I wanted the group's respect. I'll have to thank him when he gets back

I set off looking for Rick, but I run into Shane instead.

"Have you seen Rick around?" I ask.

Shane looks me over, making me more uncomfortable than usual. "Saw him over by the stable, talking business with Hershel. You comin' to my gun lesson tomorrow?"

Knowing he still questions my abilities, I should probably go, but I can't bring myself to commit, so I just answer, "I'll see if I have time." He nods and walks off toward the RV. He still doesn't seem the same to me, ever since we came here.

Not interested in interrupting Rick's talk with Hershel, I decide all that's left for me to do is go back to my truck and make a final attempt at the report. If Rick has something to ask me, maybe I can find answers in there.

DARYL

I wake up suddenly, in some mud in the forest. Everything that happened comes back to me. Finding the doll, getting thrown by the horse, passing out, getting attacked by walkers. I feel the pain in my side where the arrow got me and a dull throbbing in my head. It's time I got the fuck out of this shit hole.

I sling my crossbow over my shoulder, pull the arrow out of the walker's head, and get my walking stick. I settle myself against a rock and use my shirt to wrap my wound. "Son of a bitch was right," I mutter, remembering what Merle told me. My stomach lets out a loud growl as I suddenly realize how hungry I am and how little energy I have. It doesn't take long for me to find and shoot a squirrel. It's not much, but it should be enough to get me back up this cliff. I gut the squirrel with my knife and pick out the meat. Before I attempt to climb the cliff again, I slice off the walkers' ears and string them into a necklace with my bootlace.

I stare up the cliff, figuring out my best path. Once I've got it picked out, I start the climb. I manage alright up the rocky part, but once I reach the final stretch—a steep climb with nothing but lose dirt and tree roots—I start to struggle. As I try hoisting myself up by the roots, I hear loud cawing from above me, followed by, "Please, don't feed the birds!" I see Merle looking down on me from the top of the cliff. He laughs as I squint up at him, "What's the matter, Darlina? Is that all you got in you?"

"I did better when you were missing," I yell through my panting.

He laughs again, "Now c'mon. Don't be like that. I'm on your side!"

"Yeah, since when?"

"Hell, since the day you were born, baby brother. Somebody had to look after your worthless ass."

"You never took care of me. You talk big game but you were never there!" I growl back at him. "Hell, you ain't here now. Some things never change."

"I'll tell you what. I'm as real as your Chupacabra!"

"I know what I saw." I reach for a higher tree root and pull myself up, arms shaking.

"Yeah, and I'm sure them shrooms you ate had nothin' to do with it, right?"

"You best shut the hell up!"

"Or what?" He yells back, crouching down. "You gonna come up here and shut my mouth for me? Come on and do it then, if you think you're man enough!" He laughs, "Hey, kick off them high heel s and climb son!"

I'm so close to the top now, there's only a few feet left to climb. "You know what? If I were you I'd take a pause for the cause, brother. Cause I just don't think you're gonna make it to the top. You can't even get laid! You think that hot little red head is gonna be waitin' for you when you get back? You think you can even compare to the rich doctors and lawyers she's used to fucking?" He laughs even harder, "Face it baby brother, you're just not man enough to take what you want! C'mon. C'mon, little brother! Grab your friend Rick's hand."

My hand reaches the top of the cliff. With my final bit of strength, I pull myself up onto solid ground, panting from the exertion. I look around for Merle, but there's no sign of him. "Yeah, you better run!"

ASHLYN.

I take out the report and start skimming over parts, looking for any data analysis sections or concluding results that might help me make sense of all this. There must be something Jenner knew I would understand, something he would tell Rick about. Toward the end of the file, I find an "Additional Reports" section that looks like it was frantically circled in red pen.

'On the day of Tuesday, July 23rd, 2013, Dr. Sarah Martin was found unresponsive in her office at 0205 military time. She was announced dead at 0212 by the on staff physician. Cause of death has been reported as overdose of Codeine approximately five hours prior…'

What the fuck is this? My hands start shaking and I almost can't bring myself to read it, but at this point, there's no stopping.

'During the body's removal from Zone Four by two remaining attendants, an unclear incident occurred in which one of the two attendants contracted the unknown pathogen. The surviving attendant reports returning to the office after speaking to a supervisor and finding both the deceased and the other attendant exhibiting the same symptoms observed by those infected. Due to the necessity of terminating any threat of outbreak within the facility immediately, both infected persons were put down on site by nearby security. No signs of infection transfer were detected on the body of Dr. Martin; however, a bite mark was found on the neck of the attendant which contained trace amounts of Dr. Martin's saliva. While the cause of the reanimation of the deceased is currently unclear, recent findings from blood sample analysis indicates that the body did carry the pathogen. Further comparisons to blood samples previously believed to be uncontaminated point to the possibility of infection without contact with subjects displaying symptoms…"

I put down the papers, unable to focus on the words. "Infection without contact"? How is that possible? This woman turned without being bitten? No, that can't be right.

I remember one file in the report that didn't make sense to me. It was a blood test that was reported as inconclusive because the control—the blood sample of an uninfected person—tested the same as the infected blood sample, even with repeated trials. I flip back to the file and reread it. If the control had the pathogen as well, that would explain the results. Even though so many samples were used, it had the same result every time. Could… could we _all _be infected?

I have to tell Rick. People need to know this. People could let their guard down, not expecting someone who wasn't bit to turn, and end up like the attendant.

I get out of my truck and head over to the RV, still panicked. He should be done talking to Hershel by now, I have to find him, let him know—

"Walker! Walker!" Andrea's shouting interrupts my mad search.

"Just the one?" I hear Rick's voice and start running toward it.

Everyone starts gathering by the RV, alarmed by the first walker to stumble onto the farm.

"I bet I can nail it from here," Andrea says, all too eagerly.

"No. No!" Rick demands.

"Andrea, there's no point! The noise will only attract more," I try to reason with her.

"Andrea put the gun down," Rick commands but she isn't listening.

"You best let us handle this," Shane says, approaching with an axe and T-Dog at his side with a baseball bat.

"Hershel wants to deal with walkers," Rick warns him.

"What for man? We got it covered."

"_Dammit_." Rick grabs a pistol and chases after Shane and T-Dog, followed by Glenn.

I stay behind, still in shock from the things I read and hardly able to process the madness going on over one walker a hundred yards away.

I hear Andrea cock the gun and get into position to shoot.

"Andrea don't!"

"Back off Dale."

I look to the group, which finally reached the walker. I see them lower their weapons though, not attacking it.

"Wait, Andrea, something isn't right—"

I cringe as the shot echoes through the field and the walker drops.

"No! NO!" Rick's screams carry back to camp. My blood freezes and my stomach turns as I watch the scene unfold before me. I remember who I was waiting for. Who I was hoping to see coming back from the window. It can't be…?

Holy shit this chapter is over a week later than I meant for it to be posted and twice as long as I intended it to be. I'm really sorry for the delay! Hopefully I've got my new college schedule better figured out and it won't happen again. This chapter was supposed to end well after Daryl gets shot but it was getting so long I decided to end it here. I'm worried I'm putting too many details in my writing that's making it drag out too much.

Either way, writing the hallucinations was really fun, I hope you enjoyed reading them too!

As always, thanks for the reviews and favorites! they really motivate me to keep writing and feedback is always good.


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